Better Than Good
by PhoenixDiamond
Summary: According to Tsukuyomaru, his father's too strict and hung up on his life to live his own. Well, his friend Hiten thinks his dad would be the perfect best friend for Tsukuyomaru's dad. Why not set them up? Slash. Urban Sesshomaru x Human!Inuyasha
1. Devising

**Title:** Better than Good

 **Disclaimer:** All Inuyasha characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and associates. I only own the plot. Therefore, I own nada and make nada.

 **Summary:** According to Tsukuyomaru, his father is too strict and hung up on his life to live her own. Well, his friend Hiten thinks his dad would be the perfect best friend for Tsukuyomaru's dad. Why not set them up?

 **Pairings:** Sesshomaru x Inuyasha. Side pairings will vary.

 **Rating:** M

 **Warnings:** Eventual homosexual relations between males. **Human!** Inuyasha. Sesshomaru. UrbanSouthern!Fic. OOCness. I guesstimate this story to be several moderate to long chapters. Updates will be sporadic.

 **Author's Rant:** So this happened. Give it a try, will ya? Please enjoy!

 **Side Note:** Sorry guys. My mind just can't get wrapped around keeping them female, so this story is converted to what I'm better suited for. Yaoi instead of Yuri. ^_^

* * *

 **Devising**

* * *

Hiten gingerly taps a finger against the glass. It's the easiest way to stir up ole Caroline, his biology class's pet iguana. Being blind and deaf, steady vibrations worked as good as actual touches to reassure her that there wasn't a threat near. Her reddish, angular head semi-tilts in his direction as if to say ' _get lost'_. She'd been busy sniffing everywhere for the crickets he dumped in ten minutes ago.

Today's objective is to find some inspiration from the various knick-knacks and scientific novelties scattered tidily throughout the class on bookshelves and lab tables. Their high school science fair is a couple of months away and Hiten was looking forward to entering his ideas, maybe better yet, win the grand prize to show his dad. He'd get a real kick out of it, adding one more trophy in the glass case; along with the other awards, ribbons, certificates and noble acknowledgements he's earned since first grade.

"Geez kid, why don't 'cha just marry it already, eh?"

"See I would," Hiten starts, playful annoyance evident. "But she's into scaly skin, yellow eyes and long tongues. Seeing as I only got one of the three," he flicks his tongue out, "that won't be enough to satisfy her."

Tsukuyomaru laughter is terribly contagious, full and deep, like thunder. "You're an idiot, dude." He waves his hand dismissively. "Stop flirtin' and get over here so we can finish this shit."

Hiten settled into his seat opposite the side his best friend and props his chin on the back of his knuckles, studying over their project. It isn't anything too hard. Not for him anyway. Just a few bell-ringers, theories and discussion questions to fill out about the differences between the animal cell and plant cell. Pretty easy stuff for him, but for Tsukuyomaru, biology's more like their Spanish class; too difficult and foreign to comprehend. And he needs help in there too.

"Alright, let's turn to page three-sixteen. The review questions are similar to the ones on our worksheet. We figure out the answers there, we can add them to our notes. Then we'll have a reference plus answers for next week's lab assignment and test."

Tsukuyomaru's head snaps up, violet eyes wide and shocked. "We have lab next Friday?"

Hiten scoffs. "Dude, we've had one every other Friday since second semester started."

"Ah damn it, I . . . damn, Hiten, I forgot all 'bout it." Tsukuyomaru looks up at him, pleadingly. "I got a game—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I gotcha covered dude."

The dark skinned demon's body deflates of tension, utterly relieved. "Thanks man, I swear I'd be up shit creek without you."

"I never said it was free."

"Hey, you're doin' me a solid by offerin' at all. Whatever you want for lunch for the next month, I got cha'."

"That's sweet, but," Hiten traces a tiny circles over his desktop with his finger, "I'm thinkin' more along the lines of priceless rides to the arcade for the next two weeks, and you goin' with me to the Meteor Exhibit this Saturday. But since you offered lunch, I want that too." He smiles sweetly, batting his eyes.

"Fine with me. I'll take a shitty trip to the museum over flunkin' out. My pops won't accept anything lower than a B. And that's when he's in a good mood, which isn't often."

"Dude, whatever. Your ole man can't be that bad."

"Oh no?" Tsukuyomaru barks a short laugh. He leans forward, gesturing for Hiten to do the same, lowering his voice. "My curfew's ten o'clock on the weekdays, and midnight on weekends. I came home thirty-four—count 'em—thirty-four seconds after twelve in the morning and he was right there in the livin' room waitin' on me with Lucille."

"Who?"

"Lucille, my ole man's pool stick."

Hiten blinked, confused. Then his mouth formed an O. "Don't tell me he—"

"Beat the Holy Hell out of me like I was 'bout to rob the place." Tsukuyomaru mournfully shakes his head. "I had a knot the size of a baseball on the back of my head. Anytime someone asked what happened, I tell them I fell because I swear he's got bionic hearing . . . that man can hear a mouse piss on cotton within a steel room."

"Geez, you make me thankful for my dad. He's crazy, but, not that crazy." Hiten shrugged. "The worse he beat me with was a paint stick." He rubs over his head at the memory. "Serves me right for talkin' back. I know better now."

"Yeah, well, I'll take smacks and beat downs any day over bein' benched." The dark skinned demon sighs, sinking down in his chair. "That's why I need your help more than ever this semester. Dad says if I don't keep my grades up, he'll take me off the team . . . that's the most horrible thing he could do to me and he knows it."

Hiten straightens. "Then you better start applyin' yourself. I can help all I want, but it won't mean squat if you don't meet me half way."

"I know, I know. I just wish he wasn't always pressurin' me to be this picture perfect student, ya know? His standards are ridiculous. A's, sometimes B's, and flawless attendance, and stiff curfews, no exceptions." A tired sigh. "He needs a life instead of always tryin' to run mine."

"Doesn't he have any friends?"

"Nope—wait," Tsukuyomaru thinks, then reneges on what he was going to say. "Nah, he doesn't have any. Only a bunch of associates he goes to meetings with. He's too black hearted to folks. Not with me, but anyone outside of us, he's hella cold."

"Damn," Hiten gasps with sympathy. "I didn't know Satan had a brother."

"Yo, ease up. He can be diabolical, but he's still my pops."

Hiten raises his hands. "OK, OK, sorry . . . Anyway, let's get back to work. We gotta have half of it done to get credit and we still gotta pick a topic for the science fair."

"Alright."

Hiten reaches under his seat for his messenger pack and fished out his textbook, notebook and a box of pens. They get to work reading through the contents, researching answers to their review questions and comparing notes. A little over half of their work is finished before they tour the lab to select a few subjects to compare for the science fair. A study guide is passed out to everyone before class let's out for the chapter test scheduled for next week. The pair gathered their supplies, shedding off their lab coats before leaving for their next class.

"Say, I was wonderin'," Hiten starts.

"What's up?"

"Well," Hiten stalls by the wall lockers, scratching at his hairline. "Ya know, my dad doesn't get out much . . . he's always focusing his attention on me instead of himself. He deserves to have fun once in a while. I want him to get out more, experience some fun, make some friends. So, I mean, what if we sort of . . ."

Tsukuyomaru's eyes brightened at the implication. "Set our dads up?"

"Yeah! Just think, if they become friends, your dad won't be as mean and mine won't be as lonely. I think it could work."

"It could. . ." Tsukuyomaru sounds a tad reluctant to believe it could work after some quiet thinking. But the more he considers it, the more appealing it sounds to see his dad smile once in a while. Maybe if he had a friend to occupy his time, he won't be so hung up on pressuring him. "This could work. I bet it will . . . but how in the Hell will we get them to meet?"

Hiten lightly pounds his fist against the wall lockers. "Shit, I hadn't thought that far yet."

After a spell of silence, Tsukuyomaru turns and faces his friend with brilliant eyes and a crooked smile curving his lips. It was a sight that Hiten has seen plenty of times before, but made him stare uneasily. The expression resembled a mischievous minx, but instead of stalking, it used the angelic shimmer off its fur to lure you in, to ensnare your focus. Hiten squirms uncomfortably and waits for Tsukuyomaru to say what's on his mind.

"I have an idea," Tsukuyomaru says in a sultry tone that demands Hiten listen before denying it because of the gleam in his eyes.

"This won't affect my public record, right?"

"I," Tsukuyomaru stalls, then grins. "Well—"

Hiten glares. "No."

"Your mouth says no, but you'll do it anyway," Tsukuyomaru laughs and loops his thick arm around Hiten's shoulders. "'Cause ya know homies help one another out."

"But for whose benefit?"

"Ours duh. Come on man, consider the possibilities. Our dads bein' friends means us bein' able to spend more time together. We can hang out at each other's house, spend the night, whatever. The pros definitely outweigh the cons here."

True. This could end up being the best thing they ever did. They've been school friends since middle school and never spend a lot of time together. But at what price? The way Tsukuyomaru's face morphed from sadistic to conniving like that put Hiten on edge. Could he be blamed for being hesitant?

Hiten adopts a plea in his eyes. "Just . . . try, try _really_ hard not to make it too bad for us."

"I'll try, but in order for this to work, um, realistically, I'm gonna need your total cooperation."

"Shit. . ." Hiten sighs, conceding to the fact that he may regret this later. "What do we gotta do and will it hurt?"

* * *

 **TBC: Thanks a million for reading this far! Shall we continue?**


	2. Phase One

**Author's Rant:** I apologize for the confusion in the first chapter Even I was a little off about switching the characters from female to male. I feel more accustomed to writing yaoi, so I'll stick with that. Thanks so much everyone. Please excuse mistakes and enjoy!

* * *

 **Phase One**

* * *

"Order! Baby backs with loaded starch, a hockey puck medium well, hold the onions with a side of grease sticks!"

"Order up, Beef Stroganoff, code 86 low sodium sea salt!"

"Where's that sea party platter? I need that order to fly. I got a whole load 'bout ready to pout!"

"Dropped the basket already. I need that dish expedited. Check the temperature on that falafel. GBD, baby!"

"Is somebody on the bull? Comes with potato stripes, killed!"

"Already got it fired, Chef!"

"I got a dead plate over here, Chef!"

"Toss it, and make note. I'm slammed over here. I need somebody on those Pittsburgh's, still mooing on the rail, tout de suite!"

"On it, Chef!"

A hill of flames ignites from within a sauté pan full of diced onions, carrots, peppers, squash, zucchini, and broccoli. After a generous sprinkle of herbs and spices are added in, Inuyasha gives the pan a rough shimmy to tousle the contents. Next to him is a sauce pot set to medium heat, boiling soy sauce, garlic, salt, brown sugar and honey. He stirs it with a metal ladle, then brings the end to his lips to sample. His face crunches at the overwhelming flavor. That's the third time today.

"Karan!"

Inuyasha has to bear down on his temper real hard when it comes to his sauce chef's youngest assistant. The girl was trying, she was. But at times her talents in the kitchen were often questionable because of her inability to recognize when a certain ingredient can easily overpower the whole dish.

She ambles over, holding the base of her cook's hat, crimson eyes darting worriedly between the sauce pot and her employer. "Yes sir?"

He gestures towards the pot. "Taste this."

Karan nervously nibbles her bottom lip. "I-is something wrong with it?" At his hardened scowl, she reaches inside the drawer for a disposable spoon. Dipping it in, she scoops up a small amount to her lips, rolling her tongue over it.

Her face scrunches. "That's strong," she murmurs.

"Ya think?" he snaps. "How many cloves didja put in?"

She suddenly pales, wringing her hands. "Um, three."

Inuyasha's eyes grow impossibly wide. "Jesus, that's definitely ruined. Take this," he turns off the heat, gets a mitt and wraps it around the pot handle, "and show it to Ginta. Tell him I said to rectify this shit. And you, you distant yourself from me for the rest of the day before I snap you like a raw noodle!"

Karen shrieks, erecting her back ramrod straight. "Yes sir, so sorry sir!" Carefully extracting the pot from his hand, she makes haste weaving through the hectic thong of cooks trafficking the kitchen.

Inuyasha sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes heavenward. "Makes no damn sense, I swear," he grumbles, returning to his task. The kid's been in his kitchen for three months. By now she should have developed a general taste profile for certain foods by now. Yet here she is fucking up dish, after dish, after damn dish.

He knew she meant well. He didn't expect her to be this substantial overachiever, but he couldn't afford screw-ups, especially on days this busy. They didn't have time to give lectures or coaching sessions. A lot of this is learn as you go and on these days, quality and profit are the main objectives.

Inuyasha rubbed a hand through his dark hair, scratching at the back of his neck. He'll deal with her when this is all over. Inuyasha waved for one of the vegetable assistants to take over his position so he could survey the rest of the cuisines.

The large size scullery resembled a chaotic minefield, flames frequently erupting where you least expect, and steam blooming everywhere. The heat was stifling, and the metallic clinks that came in five second intervals could easily test a person's will. But Inuyasha loved every minute of it. He's in charge of this Hell, where the smell of food is constantly filling his nostrils, the urgency in deliverance is constant, and the ending results where customers leave with a smile and full bellies; all of it is what he lives for.

His restaurant, Tessaiga, has been his baby since he opened it ten years ago. It's one of the few multicultural restaurants in town that provided quality meals with speedy quantity. Nothing is too good to be plated. If a customer requests it, it'll be made. If they couldn't, it'll be substituted to match the order as closely as possible. An unsatisfied customer is one that's failed to taste his food. That's his belief and he'll proudly stick to it.

The Tessaiga's been through some rough patches with him too, having to suffer through four big renovations before it finally transformed into the ultimate establishment. Gazing around, perhaps ultimate is too tame a word. The ceiling is high arched with an accessible rack hanging a foot above their heads where all of their main utensils, and cookware dangled. To which, he reaches up to unhook a wide baking pan when he hears one is needed at the pastry station and takes it over.

"Thank you very much," Kagome, his Head Pastry Chef, places the pan on the counter to dress with a light layer of melted butter. "Over a half a dozen chocolate loaves, three full cheesecakes and people still can't recognize when they're the verge of a diabetic shock. That same table's ordered this stuff twice already."

"So? That means they love your food."

"So?" She mocks, expressing how offended she was by that single word. "That means I can't be as creative as I want. If all they're gonna do is order the same tired dishes, they can do that mess at McDonald's. I create art. Like my Flava Flav Ice Cream or Gaga Cupcakes? Those taste good. Everyone's said so."

"Yeah, but no one's comfortable snackin' on shit named after ugly people," Ginta, the business's Head Sauté Chef, butts in, beady eyes narrowed at the rows of cinnamon dough rolls set on her cutting board. "Or those Voodoo Doughnuts. That stuff sounds like bad juju, babes."

"Oh, simplicity is where it's at these days, huh? Chocolate Slices and Strawberry Cheesecake sound much safer?"

"Now you're learnin'."

"Don't you need to be worried about your own spot? Just how many dead plates are from your station now?"

Ginta flushes to the roots of his hair. "T-that wasn't my fault. I told that brat to taste test the sauces _before_ adding anything. I even said if she isn't sure 'bout the flavor to come talk to me. I can't make these rookies listen."

"So you're sayin' I need to hire a more authoritative Sauté Chef then, huh?" Inuyasha folded his arms, and gave Ginta a long, slow gaze with cool warning. The look alone served its purpose, causing Ginta to squirm irritatingly. "Well?"

Ginta meets his eyes briefly. "Nah, I'll take care of it."

"Good."

When Ginta's out of earshot, as can comfortably be for a wolf demon with extraordinary hearing like his, Kagome gives Inuyasha a smile and presses her hand to his arm. "You don't have to be a hard ass all the time. You know Ginta's good at his job."

Inuyasha conceals a sigh by wiping a hand over his mouth. "No one really takes it to heart. S' how I keep this place runnin'. It's either that or go on my first instinct and fire everybody for every fuck up they do. If I did that I'd be out of some of the best cooks in the state."

Kagome's face expresses nothing, but warm interest for what she brings up next. "Where's that big head brat of yours?"

Chuckling softly, Inuyasha couldn't help feeling boastful. "Probably at home doin' his homework or workin' on some science project." His smile widens. "Ya know, I feel like I got the luck of the draw with Hiten. His homework's always done, he never asks for much, he always does his chores, shit and I think he's startin' to get that cookin' vibe. He made this amazin' takoyaki octopus with soy sauce and this weird white cream I might add to our menu . . . if the kid ever tells me what the ingredients are in it—"

"Boss, telephone!"

Inuyasha stared at Kagome blankly before realization settled in that he'd gone on yet another one of his endless rants about how proud he was of his son. He felt his stomach clench a little embarrassed, but it couldn't be helped. If there's anything he adores more in this entire universe besides the Tessaiga, it was his only child, Hiten. He was perfect in every sense of the word; intelligent, humble, a great achiever, polite, reserved sometimes, and active.

Unlike his reclusive father he couldn't understand why he was so awkward around other people and preferred the solitude and comforts of home. There's no judgement or fear of being left out when he's in his house. Inuyasha didn't know what to talk about around other people besides Hiten, recipes and a few shows that not many people were into these days. Like the old black and white westerns or the Three Stooges, the Andy Griffin Show, Gilligan's Island. He tried to become more modernized with today's shows, but everything's more focused on violence, gore, crude humor and domestic drama. None of that really existed in the older classics. They retained their integrity and honor.

He'd tried, oh he'd sincerely tried to find common ground with people, but it always ends with him being kind of shoved out of conversations because he couldn't keep up. Once on a date, he'd tried asked the woman whether it'll be interesting to blend coco powder with vanilla extract before or after beating the egg. Another time, he'd been at a parent/teacher conference and wanted the opinions of what people thought on who was the better lawyer, Ben Matlock or Tony Petrocelli? And each time he'd receive those shifty eye blinks, minutely shifts away from him and excuses for why they didn't want to stick around.

So, to rid himself of continuous disappointment, he chooses to stay home and care for only two things; his son and his restaurant.

"Boss, come get this damn phone!"

"Um, Chef?" a touch rocks his shoulder. Inuyasha tilts his head away from where he'd been staring aimlessly at the stainless steel counter and meets Kagome's worried brown eyes. She points behind him. "Telephone."

"What?" Inuyasha follows her finger to his back office, tucked to the side and out of sight down the hall. "Right, I'll be back. Keep things goin'."

"Sure thing!"

Inuyasha crosses the kitchen mayhem with elegant swiftness it'd take years for anyone else to master; dipping beneath wide dinner platters, stepping out of the way of slushing pots of soup, and giving suggestions and orders as he went. He reaches his office to find his Sous Chef, Koga, leaning against the edge of Inuyasha's desk, impatiently swinging his desk phone by the cord.

"'Bout time, odd ball," he grunts, tossing the phone over. "It's from your kid's high school. Principal Hoshiyomi Daisuke or some shit."

"What? Did he say something was wrong?"

"I didn't ask, so you better check to make sure everythin's gravy."

Inuyasha waits until the door to his office is closed with Koga on the other side before bringing the receiver to his ear. "Chef Saotome speaking."

"Good afternoon Mr. Saotome, how are you—"

"Cut the pleasantries," Inuyasha interrupts. "Is my son alright? Is he hurt? The school isn't on lockdown is it?"

"No-no sir, no such thing. We're all in good spirits, especially your son. He's in perfect health and flawless grades as always. In fact, he's in my office right now."

A lot of the tension melts from Inuyasha's shoulders as relief brings him down into his seat. The latter half of the sentence doesn't catch up to him until a minute later when the oddity of it doesn't quite sound right. "Why is he in your office?"

Some shuffling is heard over the phone before the principal's voice returns. "Well, Mr. Saotome, I don't know how better to say this, but your son's here for acting as an accomplice, raiding the cafeteria kitchen for, um, eggs. Which he went on to help crack open on half the faculty's cars. Then he—"

"Hold up, I'm sorry, wait," Inuyasha cradles the phone away from him like it suddenly sprouted a feathers. "You're tellin' me that my son, my child, Hiten Saotome, did fuckin' what now?"

"He—well, do you want me to go into more detail—"

Inuyasha stared dumbfounded at the phone. "Yeah, go on," he said, tone low and dangerous. As requested, more information was provided about his son's involvement in a series of outrageous shenanigans that made Inuyasha's eyes bulge wider and wider. Releasing a horde of crickets in the lunch room during freshman chow, drenching some of their classmates with buckets of water, stealing the art club's chalk to write about student rights on the side of the school, and smearing chalk graffiti in the student parking lot, were just a few listed.

Having heard enough, Inuyasha surged to his feet and hammered his fist on his desktop. "But me me speaker!" he angrily demands, feeling the start of a vein throbbing in his brow. "Am I on?"

"Y-yes sir."

"Hiten!"

Silence breezes through the phone before a timid "Sir?" comes through.

"Kid, you better tell me this is some joke or so help me."

". . . Dad, I uh, I'm sorry."

Inuyasha paled. He's apologizing? If he's apologizing, then that means there's something to be sorry for. Inuyasha scratches wildly at his hair before yanking the phone from his mouth to scream in. "Boy, have you lost your rabid ass mind? Cuttin' up in school? Are you cracked?" Inuyasha blinks before shouting louder. "Are you takin' drugs? Are you on that Happy Pill shit?"

"No!" Hiten has the audacity to snap back. "And it's called Molly."

"Hit—You didn't just—Oh mercy," Inuyasha blows out long and hard, reaching a hand up to caress the space between his eyes. "I'm gonna be down there in fifteen minutes and you better pray it's with just my bare hands!" The phone's slammed like a sledge hammer into its holder.

Inuyasha didn't know what made him angrier, the fact that he'd just got through bragging about how much of a terrific kid his son was, or having some doubts in assuming that this was the truth. There's no way any of this could be true. Hiten vandalizing school property? The kid didn't have it in him to step on someone else's grass, let alone damage it. There has to be some misunderstanding. Perhaps Hiten was caught up in the hubbub and wound up being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yeah, yeah that has to be it. No way would his Hiten stoop so long to be like those other scandalous, bad ass delinquent demons. And if he was, so help that boy's soul.

Inuyasha discarded his outer white apron and short sleeve uniform shirt on the coat rack before grabbing his leather jacket. "Koga, take over for today. I gotta jet!"

"Cool!" Koga shouts from the other end of the kitchen. "Where are you going?"

"To kill my son!" With that said, the back door's slammed shut with a dozen or so perplexed cooks staring shocked at the exit.

* * *

"Police, open up in the name of the law!"

Officer Naraku Spartan shoots his partner an irritated stare. "You didn't really just try to justify us bustin' this man's door down with the intent of upholding peace."

Corporal Sesshomaru Shawl, side glances him. "The last thing we need is anybody actin' out in a state of panic. We gotta follow protocol."

"Man, what?" Naraku snorts. "Fuck'a protocol, this dude ain't interested in listenin' to you preach about the benefits of obeying the law. See, observe." Narau clears his throat, then proceeds to deliver three, sharp knocks to the door. "Mukotsu, listen brotha', I'm not even gonna beat around the bush with'cha. We already know you've been holed up in this spot mixin' and sellin' poisonous dope. That's your hustle, we get that. But there are a million other ways to go about makin' ends meet. The sad part is you're gonna have to think about those options behind bars. A couple of years, maybe five at the most, depending on how generous the judge is. So you can either come out peacefully to minimize the effort it'll take to restrain you, or you can make this hard. Pick whichever you prefer. It's your right as a citizen. Shit, in fact, go with the second choice. I haven't whooped anybody's ass in a month of Sundays . . . So what's it gonna be lil' dopey?"

Silence answered, and then sudden scrambling on the other side of the door, and muffled voices. Reports stated there'd be more than one occupant within the house. Sesshomaru's hand lowered to unclip the strip over his gun, extracting it from its holding. He narrowed his eyes at Naraku to indicate that he should've expected resistance. The foolish ones always resist. A perimeter of officers were already situated around the property; a shabby, old Victorian two bedroom abode located on the outskirts of town, neatly nestled where prying eyes couldn't see the illegal activity.

Not that the majority of the city _wasn't_ aware of what went down here because a lot of them were involved in this shit. Sesshomaru's busted enough of these folks on more than one occasion to be on a first name basis with them. This current offender, who one would think would know better than to complicate this situation further, should simply comply and make this less of a headache.

"He ain't openin' it, fool," Naraku bitterly hisses, cranking back the charger on his gun. "Kick it down."

Sesshomaru motions with his hand for his partner to hold off on that. He presses his back to the side of the door, gun positioned skyward, posture rigid and taut for immediate action. He tests the doorknob and upon it jingling, the shuffling from before becomes more rapid. Sesshomaru holes up three fingers, signaling to Naraku, Officer Menomaru Sigma standing behind him, and to Officer Abi Byrd standing pressed to Sesshomaru's back.

At the end of the count, Sesshomaru gives his nod, the front door's kicked in and the interior's stormed through from the front and within seconds, from the back of the house. Sesshomaru spied several colorful blurs speed down the hall and caught a glimpse of someone racing to the kitchen where most of the chemistry concocting took place. He goes there after hearing the affirming grunts and calls that the ones in the back were apprehended.

Abi's close on his heels, gun up as they closed in on the culprit.

Mukotsu held a small cauldron of sizzling purple liquid over the sink, pouring it down the drain.

"Hey!" Abi goes around Sesshomaru to deliver a swift kick to Mukotsu's ankles. It doesn't immediately deter him from his task. He manages to catch the edge of the counter to stay balanced and continues dumping the rest in the sink. "Ugh, you nasty lil'—"

"Fuck you, bitch!" He snarls. Then goes as far as cupping his palm over the liquid, then bringing it to his mouth.

"H-hey, don't swallow the evidence!"

"Like Hell lady!" Wiping the back of his wrist across his mouth, Mukotsu's bulbous eyes squint with glee as the drug's effects take hold. "I am not going to jail sober!"

Sesshomaru rolls his eyes, slipping the safety on his gun. "Got'damn it." Their main proof literally went down the drain. Sergeant Shinshinki wasn't going to be pleased about it, but bringing Mukotsu in as doped up should suffice.

The rest of the fiends were rounded up, cuffed and gathered in the living room after a loud and robust chorus of _Get Down, Lemme See Your Hands, Turn Your Back, No Sudden Moves, Get Down, Lemme See Your Hands, Turn Your Back, No Sudden Moves_. Five in total were captured, with only one of them scarcely climbing out the window before he was slammed by the officers outside.

Sesshomaru chuckles humorlessly as he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his banes before deciding it was safe enough to loosen the ribbon keeping his hair bound. It sweep over his bulletproof vest, and radio. This whole mission had gone better than he'd anticipated. It was no different from a regular training session back at the station. The squad could use more easy days like this.

"See, and you thought this would be one of those cases on the news."

Sesshomaru rolls his eyes at his longtime partner making his way over with Menomaru and Abi.

Naraku claps a hand over Sesshomaru's shoulder, grinning wider at the cold glare sent his way. "You're gonna listen to lil' ole me one of these days, man."

"What'd I tell you 'bout touchin' me unnecessarily?" Sesshomaru dusts the hand from his shoulders. "And for the record, I'd rather keep my job then lose it due to listenin' to one of your suggestions."

"Ouch, that sounds almost hurtful." But Naraku shrugs it off. "Anyway, we're gonna hit up Rift's by the docks after briefing. You down?"

Sesshomaru looked between the three, then shook his head. "No thanks," he grumbles and steps through the small group to leave the house. Though, he doesn't miss the small conversation about him—because the dumbasses don't have enough sense to wait to gossip outside earshot of a dog demon.

"Why do you bother trying to be friends with that guy?" Is what Menomaru whispers. "He always acts like a dick."

"Learn to take a hint sometimes, Naraku," Abi adds in disdainfully. "He's a good cop, but otherwise, a sad excuse for a friend. He never goes to our events, never joins our dinners, and never wants to socialize. It's like he's immune to being nice to people."

Naraku laughs. "Nah, I'll break 'im one of these days. Sesshomaru's not a bad man at all. I like his attitude. Just means he won't take shit from anybody."

Sesshomaru settles inside his squad car, ready to radio in to headquarters how the raid went. He already has most of his paperwork filed away and ready to be sent up. The only few things left before he could enjoy his three-day weekend, is following the others in to be briefed and to discuss their next course of action.

It's as his transmission's completed when his personal cell phone starts ringing. Strange for him because he could count on one hand how many people actually had this number. He fishes it out of his side pocket, studying the number and at recognizing the area code for his son's school distinct, answers right away.

"Corporal Shawl speaking."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Shawl," answers a deep, professional voice. "This is Principal Hoshiyomi Daisuke, how are you doing?"

"Fine, fine, what can I do for you, Mr. Daisuke?"

"Yes, well, I have your son Tsukuyomaru in my front office for a few incidents he was involved in earlier this morning."

Sesshomaru frowns through his windshield. "What kind of incidents?"

"We have reason to believe that Tsukuyomaru is the primary culprit in a string of crimes involving vandalizing property and potentially causing internal damage to several faculty vehicles."

"Reason to believe," Sesshomaru slowly reiterates, straightening in his seat. "You want me to assume my son's been caught up in some mediocre vandalism, when you and I both know Tsukuyomaru's never so much as littered on your school grounds, all because you have a reason to think he did it?"

"Oh no sir, we don't _think_ , we _know_. He was caught in the act along with another student."

"Do you have proof?"

"Why, yes. Video surveillance can be provided if you need credibility."

Vandalizing school property? Just . . . what in the world? "What exactly did he do?" Sesshomaru quietly questions. It wouldn't be the first time a demon's been unjustly incriminated over some bullshit just because of their abnormal strength and heighten senses. Some humans tended to discriminate hard against those they considered too different to fit into society and if anything remotely immoral happens, they're quick to point fingers at demons. As if humans aren't capable of being just as irrational.

But as the principal began to explain in detail what his son had done, Sesshomaru's mouth nearly fell open. All of these fit the profile of some fatherless, juvenile delinquent with no hopes for a future. Sesshomaru knows damn well this didn't fit his child. Not his son. The boy could be a little rebellious, but what teenager wasn't these days? When Sesshomaru laid his foot down on a matter that usually resulted in a disgruntled agreements and days of silence between them, but Tsukuyomaru wasn't a bad child.

"Mr. Daisuke," Sesshomaru swiftly cuts through the man's rants, having heard enough. "Can you put me on speaker?"

"Yes sir. One moment. . . Alright, you're on."

"Do you speak Spanish Mr. Daisuke?"

"No sir."

"Good. Tsukuyomaru can you hear me?"

". . . Yeah, Dad."

Sesshomaru inhales deeply, then releases it in the same breath he uses to drift into his son's secondary language; Spanish. "What the fuck is this man talkin' about? The hell does he mean you're over there damaging school property?"

Tsukuyomaru doesn't answer right away. Then his deep voice smoothly floats through in fluent Spanish. "I . . . well, you see, I was just angry. I don't know what came over me—"

"What do you have to be angry about that's got you stealin' motherfucka' eggs out of the got'damn cafeteria?" Sesshomaru snarls. "Answer me!"

"I don't know what to tell you, Dad. I screwed up. . . I'm sorry."

Sesshomaru's tone is positively laced with malice. "You know I'm gonna kill you right?"

"Dad, threatenin' your own kid is a bit extreme. You confessed and everything. That's premediated murder—"

"I'm a cop, boy. It's either death or torture. Choose wisely."

". . . Death it is."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. You have that long to decide on what color roses you want at your funeral."

Sesshomaru was floored as well as livid. He clutched at his phone like it was his own gun being held in his face before slinging it into the passenger's seat. He calls his supervisor to say he'll be returning late to briefing due to an emergency at the school concerning his son. Luckily Shinshinki is an understanding father and grants Sesshomaru the rest of the day off as long as he remembers to fill out a Leave Form when he comes back Monday.

That's if he wasn't arrested himself for knocking his son through the wall.

* * *

Tsukuyomaru gulped.

Perhaps, somewhere in the midst of all their crazy antics, he should have taken into consideration the level of rage his father would feel. He straightened in his seat before sinking so low his long legs bumped the front of Mr. Daisuke's desk. The principal left not long after the last phone call to speak with one of the front office workers. He either wanted Hiten and Tsukuyomaru to mentally prepare themselves for their fathers, or let them think over the consequences of their actions.

While Tsukuyomaru wasn't as visibly shook in the face, Hiten had this cadaverous darkness on his face, as if the devil himself promised to make a personal visit to drag him down to Hell. Not that isn't completely far from the truth. The way Hiten's father sounded over the speaker, Tsukuyomaru didn't think anyone besides his own father possessed the ability to wring a tremor out of him.

"Damn," he closes his eyes, and hisses. The realization of their predicament shouldn't have him second guessing his intentions. They were doing this for the greater good of their fathers. But that didn't stop the heavy sense of dread aching in his chest like a stab wound.

Hiten shut his eyes and bowed his head into his hands. "Dad's gonna fuckin' fillet, bro. That's it, no mercy to be had. I'm finished in this town. Ready me for the barbie smeared in comin'-for-dat-ass sauce because that's exactly what my dad's gonna do."

"Ah man, chill. Ya Dad's just worried," Tsukuyomaru offers, offering a comforting pat on Hiten's back. "You can hear it in his voice. He thought something happened to you. He's more disappointed than anything."

"And you wonder why?" Hiten snaps, roughly shrugging away the hand. "I never get in trouble. _Ever_. We went way too far with this. If this doesn't seem like a cry for attention, I don't know what will. I'm flippin' fifteen. Why do I care if he pays attention to me? I get enough of his meddlin' at home!"

"It's all part of the plan, Hiten. This is only phase one. If it hadn't been a big enough scam, my dad wouldn't have bothered showin' up. He would've scolded me at home. At least this way, we get both of them in the same room."

"Dude, I _heard_ your dad. That's not evil. That tone transcends Tucker Max times ten. And—and how long have you spoke Spanish? I didn't know you could."

"Oh, yeah." Tsukuyomaru wiggles upright in his seat, then bends forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "My mom speaks Spanish. They met in Spain. Dad brought her here, they had me, end of story."

Hiten twists his torso around to face his best friend fully. "Screw that. I have a few short minutes to live. Gimme somethin' to go aww over."

"There's nothin' to talk 'bout for real. My mama's name is Shiori Mendoza, she and my dad loved one another until some other dude promised her better living. She took the deal, then skedaddled outta there, leavin' me with him. I haven't seen her in eight years. . ." The violet shade in Tsukuyomaru's eyes gradually drifted to a milky red towards the latter of his short story.

Hiten decided not to press for more, seeing how it clearly upside his best friend.

"What 'bout you?"

Hiten knew the question would be tossed back. "Uh, well, my parents met in culinary school. They messed around up until their final year, then went their separate ways. Mom found out she was pregnant with me, then came and told Dad. She said she didn't have time to raise a child when she has a restaurant to manage. She inherited hers from my grandparents. My dad's hadn't gotten off the ground yet, but even if it hadn't, I know he wouldn't have forsaken me." He rubbed behind his neck. "She didn't wanna completely relinquish custody on me either though. So I visit her every summer. That's where I go while you're at football camp, ya know."

"So you stay in contact with your mom?" Tsukuyomaru's face softens. "What's she like?"

Hiten blushes a little. "Really, really, really, affectionate. She only acts that way in public because she knows I can't stand it. Always kissing, hugging, wiping dirt off my face, ugh!"

Tsukuyomaru breathes out thoughtfully. "Nothin' wrong with that. Least you can say she cares." He gives a light shrug. Then he frowns. "Ya know, I'm curious. What does your dad look like?"

"What does yours look like?" Hiten counters.

"My dad's a'ight. I'll show you a pic." Tsukuyomaru fishes around his back pocket for his cell phone.

"Hold on, I'll show mine too." Hiten plucks his iPhone out of his pocket as well. "I got some from when we went fishin' at the cabin last month."

Upon finding the desired picture, Tsukuyomaru turns to Hiten looking so satisfied with himself that Hiten shudders. Weird how that sharp smile of his always causes abnormal reactions.

"Here's my ole' man," he says, smiling pridefully. "I don't think he's a bad lookin' demon."

Hiten finally discovers a picture that'll flatter his father just as well and passes it over.

Together, the friends examine over the appearance of the other's father, unknowingly sharing a mutual appreciation for their looks.

Hiten stared at the picture for long moments, suffering a little bit of shock. It was an image of a very tall demon man leaning against the truck of a large tree with his shoe poised on it and had blinding white skin. As is his hair. It's incredibly pale, so white as to seem like a polished pearl. His eyes are a deep, brilliant bronze. The clothes he wore trim and fitted to an obviously toned man; nothing like how he would've imagined for Tsukuyomaru's father. He'd expected someone as rowdy, loud and egotistical. . . No, he definitely looks egotistical, in that sort of devilish, diabolical manner judging by the slanted way his eyes are starting at the person taking his picture.

Comparing his friend and father together certainly eliminates a lot of the mystery as far as where Tsukuyomaru inherited his facial structure and overall sex appeal. No wonder all the girls were after him. He's gorgeous on his own, but his father's just like him; in a league of his own.

Concurrently, Tsukuyomaru was going through a similar review over Hiten's father because holy hell who knew his best friend's dad would be such a knockout. Not that he had a thing for guys, he preferred pussy over dick any day—sometimes— but he learned there's nothing wrong with having a healthy appreciation for the same sex.

He's shown sitting on a grassy hill throwing the deuce sign at whoever's taking his picture, admiring the clear spring sky and spread of river water before him. He has endless jet black hair, and a heart shaped face that resembled Hiten's in outline. The golden hue reflected in his skin showed he was more of an outdoorsmen and if that weren't enough evidence, the muscles showing through his plaid t-shirt would have been plenty proof. His eyes were impossible to figure out. They looked like a mixture between aged wine and deep brown. His expression conveyed buoyancy, and a little timid. This kind of how Tsukuyomaru would have pictured Hiten's dad alright. Just not as attractive, but wow.

"Man, your dad's a real looker," Hiten laughs absently as he passes the phone over. "I see where you get the friendly scowl," he says sarcastically.

Tsukuyomaru shoulders him playfully, "Hardy-har-har, don't crack jokes. I gotta tell ya, your dad's pretty good looking. . . I wasn't expecting him to be human. You don't even look like a half-breed."

"I took after my mom mostly. I think all I got from my dad is my skin tone."

"Nah, there's more. Like." He reaches out a finger and taps Hiten's nose. "Your nose, that billboard forehead—"

"Hey jackass—"

"—and that adorable lil' smile."

Hiten clamped his mouth shut, fixing the other with a dark glance, and took a deep breath. It seemed to diminish his urge to smack Tsukuyomaru stupid. That, and when he would've raised his hand to do it anyway, the door to the principal's office opened and their principal wasn't alone.

Hiten's head shot up like a startled deer in the path of a charging truck. "D-Dad."

* * *

He sputters, petrified.

Good. He had every reason to be scared. Inuyasha strolled in behind the school principal, sparing the extra occupant in the room an equally searing glare before focusing the blunt force of it back on his son. The other kid's eyebrows rose up and stayed there at how visibly freaked Hiten was.

"Mr. Saotome, would you like a seat?" suggested Principal Daisuke.

"No," Inuyasha purposely growled. He folded his arms and stood an inch from where Hiten sat. "I'm good standing."

"Very well. To prevent sounding redundant, would you mind if we waited for Tsukuyomaru's father—"

Three knocks rapped against the door.

"Ah, never mind. He's here. Come in Mr. Shawl!"

This time, it was Tsukuyomaru who openly flinches when the door opens and enters a powerfully tall demon man in full Swat Team garb. Inuyasha notices how shook the kid is and has to admire the newly arrived visitor for being able to create that level of respect, knowing from personal experience how difficult it is to raise a demon teenager.

The gentlemen gives mild nods to everyone in turn without making eye contact, then centers his focus on Tsukuyomaru. The dark skinned teen, squirms in place as Mr. Shawl troops over and stands by his son, wearing a slight frown.

"Mr. Shawl, would you care for a seat?"

A head shake is the answer.

"Alright, thank you very much gentlemen for appearing. I wish it were under better circumstances. . ." he softly mutters.

The boys quietly stare at the floor.

Inuyasha narrows his eyes so tight his temples ache.

"Boys, do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Inuyasha chuckles bitterly. "I can't wait to hear this."

Hiten nervously rubs his palms. "U-um, well, ya see, the thing is—"

"It's my fault," Tsukuyomaru suddenly blurts out, gathering a surprised look from everyone. "It was my idea. I goaded Hiten into helpin' me make a mess of the school—"

"Hold up, you didn't force me. I wanted to do it!"

"Nah, you wouldn't have and it's my fault for pressurin' you into it."

Relief somewhat made itself home in Inuyasha's chest as he closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling a few moments to collect himself. "So, you're tellin' me that you allowed yourself to get manipulated by some demon kid?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" said a low, deep and dangerous voice.

Inuyasha rubbed the space between his chest to quell the vibration the tone caused and cleared his throat. "You heard what he said," he directed to the demon man who didn't disguise his displeasure at the comment. "He confessed to forcin' my son into misbehaving."

"Did you not hear your _own demon kid_ just say he wasn't forced into anything? He was a willing participate. They're both at fault."

"Listen, um, Shawl, is it? I don't know how you raise your son, but mine isn't a frequent troublemaker. You might be used to—"

The man steps away from his son's side, batting away the hand reaching out to halt his approach. Inuyasha stood his ground as the man with impossible height stood directly in front of him. Inuyasha's nose twitched at the scent of sweat, aftershave and grass.

"Let's get somethin' straight Saotome, my child isn't one of those frequent troublemakers as you've so kindly implied. He's this school district's leading runnin' back with a flawless attendance record, a nonexistent criminal background and good grades. I raised my child just fine. Who's to say the way you raised your spawn isn't the real problem?"

" _Spawn_?" Inuyasha spat, sizing the other up. "You might wanna reverse that insult. I'm not gonna stand here and let you disrespect mines."

"Likewise, lil' man."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dad back off!" Tsukuyomaru squeezes in between them, pushing at his father's chest.

Hiten does the same, pleadingly staring into his father's face. "Dad, come on, it's OK. No reason to get upset."

Inuyasha pulls Hiten behind him. "Like Hell there isn't. He's standin' here talkin' like you're the one to blame for this!"

Shawl does the same to his son. "You started insinuatin' BS like you know my kid; the same basic stereotypes the same as everybody else. Always quick to make assumptions without reliable evidence. Never mind the fact that your _half-breed_ child is equally part of the problem and even said so!"

Inuyasha stares with his mouth open. Then he swallows, chancing a quick glance over his shoulder to check on his son's reaction. Luckily, the commotion's too much for the wicked insult to catch up to him, but that wasn't going to fly by Inuyasha.

Inuyasha stalked up to him with his fists clenched. "Say that shit again. I dare you."

A sinister smirk spreads across firm, smooth lips. "You think you can drop me?"

"Like a bad habit, asshole."

Hiten wedges himself in between them this time, shoving at Inuyasha's shoulders. "Dad, come on. That's enough. Can we just go? Please?"

Inuyasha wasn't entirely aware of how hard he was breathing until he looked into Hiten's scared eyes and made himself calm down. He took several long inhales, then slowly nods. "Go wait in the car," he murmurs.

Hiten eagerly nods, grabbing his stuff and does as he's told. Inuyasha nods to the principal, "I apologize for my behavior," he says to the horrified man. "But since cooperation clearly won't be practiced between all parties," he pointedly directs towards the other adult, "could you call me about what Hiten's punishment will be? Hopefully based off his good grades and attendance, there can be some leniency in your final decision."

"The same had better be applied towards Tsukuyomaru," Shawl sharply orders, never taking his slanted eyes off Inuyasha.

"I'd already made up my mind over what's to be done, but given how fast this escalated, I'll prefer to discuss it over the phone, Mr. Shawl."

He doesn't seem satisfied with the answer, but agrees anyway. "Get your stuff. We're leavin'."

Tsukuyomaru sighs. "Yes sir." Like Hiten he gathers all of his things and ducks out of the office.

Inuyasha squares Shawl over carefully, then narrows his eyes. "Keep that son of yours away from mine. Ya got that? The last thing I want is your boy influencin' Hiten into committing devilment."

Shawl folds his arms, smirking tauntingly. "Yeah, I'd hate for my son to corrupt your boy. Since he clearly isn't able to make up his own mind."

Inuyasha bites back a retort, knowing it wouldn't serve well to break anymore school property. He offers a just as conniving smirk, then says, "Of course. That's what you heathen demons are good at." With that said, he turns on his heel to leave, gratified to know he has the last word and knowing he put that pissed off expression on that jackass's face.

* * *

Text Messages:

 _Hiten_

 **Tsukuyomaru**

 _You complete dumbass. This plan sucks. What was that? Just what in the actual hell happened back there? That did not go the way it should have!_

 **Relax, bro, I got this. Things got a lil' haywire, but no worries. It still worked. We have their attention at least.**

 _They hate each other._

 **For now. Just wait until we go on to Phase 2.**

 _You're sure this'll work?_

 **It'll work babes, trust me. Just make sure you handle your end and I'll take care of mine.**

 _. . . Whatever. I gotta go. My Dad's comin' to the car. Stay alive._

 **I'll try. Peace bro.**

 _BTW My dad says we're gonna drive by the local cemetery to pick out a good plot, so I might not answer my phone tonight._

 **My Dad says he wishes he'd drowned me at birth because he could've saved money on blood pressure medicine.**

 _. . . Yeah, this'll work. They're made for each other._


	3. Phase Two

**Author's Rant:** Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Phase Two**

* * *

Hiten quietly pushed his fork through the crumbled bits of tonight's dinner; bacon cheeseburger pie and crisply chopped potato wedges. His father didn't believe in buying anything pre-packaged. If he could buy it premium cut or fresh from the market, that'll be his only option. It could be chopped up to his sensitive tongue. Being a renowned chef came with its perks, but inwardly it seems like a burden for his father whenever they would attempt to eat outside of home.

Inuyasha could taste every single ingredient in a meal and determine how it was prepared based on the texture, warmth and overall taste. If he didn't approve, he didn't swallow. It's a habit Hiten picked on as well, which is why he opts to take lunch to school. Tonight one of his favorite meals was made, he couldn't bring himself to eat a bite. His stomach's too knotted and his nerves to shot to death.

Neither of them had spoken a single word to one another since they arrived home. Hiten for worrying he'll retrigger his father's earlier outburst and Inuyasha from not wanting to voice his concerns right away. The father needed to collect his wits first, simmer down his temper a little.

He wasn't as angry as before. Not at his son anyway. He'll be dealt with soon enough. It was the jackass father of the delinquent that got his son into trouble. It made his blood boil. That low down, ignorant jerk. Who did he think he was anyway? Is it that hard for him to see through how much of a hardheaded son he has? He flat out admitted it was his fault. Even if Hiten denies it, it could easily be chalked up to him lying in order to save his friend.

Whom . . . up to that point, Inuyasha hadn't known his son had any close friends. None worth getting in trouble for. So, it made him wonder how close these two were and for how long? Inuyasha chewed his food thoughtfully, staring out the picture room of the living room into his inky black void covering the spices and herbs he grew outside. What does that say about his parenting abilities? Inuyasha knew he should be aware of who his son's involved with for his own safety. Does he make it hard for Hiten to approach him? Inuyasha had always thought they possessed a decent relationship between father and son. They talked, shared subjects about their day . . . but never anything about friends or dates.

"Hiten." Inuyasha decide the intense silence had lived long enough and broke through the barrier between them after finishing half of his fluffy buttered toast. "Tell me what's goin' on."

Hiten's eyes rose up slow and timid and returned to staring at his food. He places his fork next to his plate and offered a small shrug. "I dunno."

"Ya gotta know. You've never misbehaved in school before. I'm—well, worried."

Hiten held his gaze when he looked up a second time and stared a long moment. "You're not mad?"

"Boy, I'm pissed enough to skin your behind like a catfish." Inuyasha's voice tapers as he continues. "But I know when something's off. Damaging school property? Kid, you don't even keep a dirty room. Not a sock outta place. So, what's really goin' on? Was that kid right that he forced you into doing all of that stuff or did you really act out on your own?"

Hiten stared at him blankly for a moment, and Inuyasha thought his son would actually lie to him until he watched the emotions filtered through his eyes like pits of powder sugar. "I did it on my own," he eventually says. "Tsukuyomaru didn't force me. He said he was gonna do it and I willingly volunteered . . . he's my best friend."

"What kind of best friend would intentionally allow his friend to help him do something like this?"

Hiten shook his head. "He tried to talk me out of it, but I insisted. I don't know why he wanted to do it. It was just spur of the moment. We did one prank and it just escalated from there."

Inuyasha leaned backwards, crossing his arms over his chest. If he weren't convinced before, he was now. Hiten wasn't lying. And he had to deal with the stupid guilt roiling in his gut at having been so damn adamant about blaming that other kid for it. He couldn't blame Hiten for this. Inuyasha had made an ass out of himself and needed to rectify the problem. When he was wrong, he was man enough to admit it and fix it. Whether Shawl accepted his apology or not would be entirely up to him.

"Also . . . um," Hiten rubbed the back of his head as a loud and bright blush colored the bridge of his nose. "I kind of did it because I thought it'd get Tsukuyomaru to notice me. I-I like him."

Inuyasha's blinked really fast, then frowned, unsure if he'd heard correctly. "D-do what now?"

"I like him, Daddy." Hiten smiles softly, chuckling. "Like I really, _really_ like him. I have since we met in the eighth grade."

"Oh, um, wow . . . alright then . . ." _Yeah, so he had heard right._ Now Hiten's face was flaming. Inuyasha licked his lips, waiting for the proper reply to formulate in his head, but this confession slammed him with the force of a wrecking ball. "So, you're sayin' that you're—"

"Bisexual," Hiten blurted out fast enough to blur out what Inuyasha had been ready to say. "I still like girls . . . but I like boys too."

Inuyasha was sure how to approach this. He wasn't angry or disappointed, just stunned. Very much so. Throughout his whole life, Hiten has never shown a visible preference for males. Shit, or females, but Inuyasha thought his son was too shy to try dating. Which he was inwardly grateful for because he wasn't sure he was ready to deal with his son dating. But after discovering this, the monumental weight it held over him was overwhelming.

The father drummed his fingers along the edge of the table, eyes wide and confused. He fidgeted uneasily in his seat and noted how Hiten had done the same, with open plea and understanding on his face. That's when Inuyasha realized he'd been sitting here the whole time and hadn't say anything at all.

"Dad. . . I'm sorry if you're disappointed," Hiten murmured. "Do you hate me?"

"What? God son, no. I could never hate you." Inuyasha wiped a hand over his mouth before using it to perch his chin on and sighed. "It's just a shock. I'm still reelin," he chuckles awkwardly. "I never thought that you'd, um, be interested in boys."

"And girls."

"Whatever," Inuyasha laughs differently this time, a loosely sound that pulls much of the tension out of the room. "So, you have a crush on this kid?"

The blush returns full force. "Y-yeah, he's great."

Inuyasha nods. "That's cute," he comments, then goes back to eating. Hiten does the same, finishing his meal fast and helping himself to a second helping. Even grabbing his father's plate to pile another large slice on it before passing it over.

When dinner's over, Inuyasha boils up a kettle of sweet tea, softly flavored with lavender and raspberry. Both of them could use the therapeutic smells to soothe their spirits. They took to the living room, Inuyasha stretching out on the couch and Hiten sitting on the floor, next to his head. Though it was just the start of fall, the temperatures outside hadn't dropped enough for the fireplace to be lit. But Inuyasha didn't mind feeling the heat blanket his skin and judging from the content sigh from his son, Hiten didn't either.

Inuyasha didn't want to ruin this moment. He cherished these quiet moments with his son. They'd become so distant since he became a teenager; as if spending time with his father wasn't as fun as it used to be. But he needed to speak about what happened earlier and reprimanding is in order.

"Hiten."

"Sir?"

Inuyasha pulled his legs up and righted himself, expression stern. "Don't think you're gonna get off for what you did." At Hiten's sudden flinch, Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna whoop ya this time. I don't have the drive for it, but you're grounded for a month. No arcade, no museums, no laptop, no PlayStation, and I'm limiting the data on your phone."

"Wow," Hiten looked into the flames, and nods slowly, sinking a little. "Alright. What about after school?"

Inuyasha's frown hardened. "No." He ignores the ache in his chest at the disheartened look on Hiten's face, remaining firm on the decision. "You'll come straight home, do your chores and homework. Nothing beyond that."

Hiten sighs grimly, rolling his empty teacup. "I suppose I'm gettin' off good, huh?"

"Ya think?" Inuyasha playfully nudges the back of his head. "Be glad. The way I was feelin' before, I thought 'bout nothing else 'cept wearin' your ass out."

"You haven't tanned my butt since I was twelve. Remember when I put your shaving cream all over your bedroom 'cause I wanted to help Santa make snow?"

"Oh son, don't remind me," Inuyasha dropped his head on the armrest, draping his arm over his eyes. "I still owe you another ten years' worth of ass whoopin' for that one. You covered the mirrors, windows, my dresser—I'm still tryin' to figure out how you managed to cover half the ceiling. I mean damn, that was an even coat."

The father-son pair shared a loving moment reminiscing on those days. Because of Hiten's mischievous nature, Inuyasha suffered through his son's constant curiosity and inability to anticipate what would come of that curious mind. Inuyasha shook his head slowly and sipped his tea. Good times. God, he missed those simple days.

"Say Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh, you remember Tsukuyomaru's dad?"

And just like that, Inuyasha's good mood vanished with a flash and crackle. "What about 'im?" he grumbled irritably.

"What do you think of him?"

"He's an asshole," Inuyasha answers right away. He brushes his hair over his shoulder, glaring into the swirling indigo colored tea in his cup. "I didn't appreciate 'im tryin' to push all the blame on you when he knew that brat of his was at fault. _Mostly_ at fault." He promptly corrects.

"I didn't think he was so bad. He reminds me of you a little. The way you both were angry," Hiten rolls his shoulders up in a shrug, taking a drink. He bends his legs up to his chest and glances behind to find his father's legendary scowl in place, dark eyebrows scrunched like they're pinned there. "Tsukuyomaru told me a little about him. He works all the time, doesn't get out much, no friends. . . You have a lot in common."

Inuyasha's left eyebrow rises. "Your point?"

"Nothing." Hiten grunts in the effort it takes to climb up to his feet and stretches his arms. "I'm gonna head to bed. Night Dad."

"Night, son." Inuyasha whispered.

He fixed his dark gaze inside his cup again. His eyes lock on a singular herb bit swirling in the center. A sign of good fortune to come. Such a random omen. Inuyasha brushes away his bothersome side-lock again and shakes his head. What an odd speculation to make. Inuyasha didn't have a thing in common with that demon asshole. That jerk was arrogant, cocky, self-absorbed and even looked one of those people who refused to believe their own shit stank.

There is only one common trait they shared and that's their strong devoted love for their sons. As were the case so passionately shown when they were in the school office. Beyond that, Inuyasha doubted there is anything else. And he wasn't going to sit here contemplating it further.

After finishing his tea, Inuyasha leaves for bed. But sleep eludes him for a few hours because of his damnable conscience. Guilt is a wicked son of a bitch.

* * *

"Dad, ya ready?"

"Yeah, get in here."

' _He's calmed down some_.' Good. There's less of a risk factor here. On a bad day, Tsukuyomaru would've sprinted back to his room and barricaded the door to keep his dad at bay. He may have inherited his father's temper, but no way in Hell did he inherit that man's speed and strike force. Tsukuyomaru emerged from the hallway, dressed in a plain white tee and plaid pajama pants, towel drying his hair. He circled the way and gave a crooked grin upon seeing his father seated at the head of their dinner table, biting through a thickly decorated roast beef sandwich.

Sesshomaru polished off his meal and dusted the crumbs from his fingers before gesturing for his son to take the stool positioned between his legs. Several hefty roast beef and turkey sandwiches sat piled on two separate plates with large bags of ranch Doritos and plain Lays chips next to two bottles of root beer and sprite. He even made dinner? He's definitely in a better mood.

Tsukuyomaru toes the stool away and sits Indian style in front of his father's legs, snatching a sandwich off the table and the whole bag of Lays. "Mmm," he purred blissfully at the first crunch of bacon, pickles, spicy mustard, tomato, thinly sliced roast beef.

"Jesus boy, when'd ya get so big on me?"

"Ya better watch ya'self, Dad. I'm gonna be taller than you soon."

"How tall are you now?"

"Six foot."

"Damn, another four and you'll catch up to me."

"Bet? Then I'll be the man of the house."

Sesshomaru lightly pops his head. "Bigger don't mean badder, son. You come home thinkin' you can whoop my ass if you want. I'll knock you through the wall and not think twice about it."

"Never that. I ain't stupid."

Sesshomaru snorted under his breath. "That shit ya pulled earlier speaks differently." When his son sheepishly ducks his head, Sesshomaru smirks triumphantly. "Thought I forgot?"

"No, I uh." The sandwich is lowered as two bright violet eyes glanced up at him, paired with a charming smile. "I was thinkin' of bonding with my dear ole dad braiding my hair without fearin' for my life?"

"Uh-huh, you brought the comb?"

Tsukuyomaru promptly produces the wide-tooth tool and returns to eating. He nestled his back against the small gape between his father's thighs and endured having layers of hair parted, and sections divided evenly before a comb was gingerly ran through to detangle the knots. Tsukuyomaru bit his bottom lip hard when a particular knot refused to fall through and his father's rough handed treatment wasn't helping. He was normally a tad gentler, but the treatment could be owned up to Tsukuyomaru's misbehaving. That's fine though. He'd take losing some hairs over suffering a beat down.

"Who's that boy you got in trouble?" Sesshomaru absently questions. He flips away the freshly combed parts to the left and starts working through the middle. "He doesn't look like the type of kid to miss a day of homework."

"Hiten Saotome. That's my main man."

"Your what?"

"My best friend!" Tsukuyomaru laughs, brightening at the chance to talk about his buddy. "He's smart, real chill and laid back. Anytime I have trouble in my classes, he helps tutor me. No one's had my back the way he does." He ponders over what he's about to say, wondering if it's worth the chance of getting smacked. "Ya'd know what that's like if you ever tried being friendly to folks; instead of tryin' to pass yourself off as a diabolical jerk."

The violent jerk of his hair was his first clue that that was a little too mouthy for his age. Tsukuyomaru was tugged so far, he had to crane his neck directly upright to add slack to his restrained hair.

"Sorry, sorry. Dad! Ow, that's the root! Can you can stop now?" he pleas and sighs as he's released. "Didn't mean to touch on a sensitive topic."

"Learn to mind your tongue, then." Sesshomaru grabs a handful of his hair and began curling his claws through to assess any knots he may have missed. After a satisfying search of none, he starts tugging and pulling on the long, wet strands. "I don't need friends. They want too much in return."

"Like what, a chance to get to know you?" Tsukuyomaruallowed his head to be jerked back with the pressure. "I wish you'd try. Not like you have anything to lose."

"Less chance of being betrayed," Sesshomaru utters indifferently, sorting through a couple of missed tangles.

" _Chance_ is the keyword."

"Yes, it is." Sesshomaru scraps the hair together, then working it into three even divisions and neatly begins a weaving pattern, stretching the sodden hair until it was wound down to the middle of Tsukuyomaru's back. "There, you can get up."

Tsukuyomaru reached around to finger the thick plait and deemed it perfect. He climbed to his feet and went to take the hair things in the bathroom. He returned a minute later to finish eating a quiet dinner with his father. He'd did a marginal push, but his father's temper was like a skittish kitten; real easy to set off. He didn't expect the first attempt at the discussion to go easy. If it had, he'd be worry.

Flipping the neater tail back over his shoulder, Tsukuyomaru cleared his throat to grab his father's attention. "So, Mr. Saotome seems nice," he lightly comments, not missing the sharp glint in those gold eyes. "Hiten talks about him all the time."

"Nice?" Sesshomaru bites through his third sandwich, then adds after swallowing, "I don't see how you managed to gather that about him. Didn't you hear how he felt about demons?"

Tsukuyomaru shrugs. "I don't think he meant anything by it. Besides, Hiten's half-demon so he can't hate us for real. That'd make him a mega hypocrite."

"Hell yeah, it would."

Tsukuyomaru bit his lip hard, so he wouldn't laugh at the wide-eyed frown on his father's face. He just nodded and told himself to tread carefully. "But what do you think of 'im?"

"I think he's one of those overly privileged humans who outta seek tutelage to learn to properly approach a demon. Steppin' up to me like that 'bout landed him in the ER."

"Maybe you two got off on the wrong foot."

Sesshomaru glares across the table. "Didn't you just hear me?"

"I didn't mean in the literal sense." Tsukuyomaru raises his hands. "He was mad I got his son in trouble. What sensible parent wouldn't? Hiten's one of the smartest kids in our class. He doesn't _do_ trouble. And you and I both know demons don't exactly have the best reputations. We don't all share the same equality thoughts when it comes to humans."

Sesshomaru snorts lowly. "That doesn't excuse him for lumpin' us in the same mold as those low class deviants."

"You're right. I was mad a little bit, but I still had to see where he was comin' from." Tsukuyomaru grabbed his trash and stood. "I'm just sayin', try to be a little more understanding."

He leaves to let his debate marinate in his father's brain for a while. He makes it halfway to his bedroom when he hears his father's sharp voice carry down the hall. Tsukuyomaru comes hurrying down the hall because the tone's one of those you don't walk to.

"Yeah?"

Sesshomaru cuts his eyes at him. Tsukuyomaru barely restrains the urge to roll his eyes, then quietly corrects himself.

"Sir?"

"Two months."

"Two months?" Understanding dawns on the teenager with a quickness. "Whoa, two months!"

Sesshomaru thumbs off each limitation. "School, practice, home, homework, chores and your curfew's jacked up to ten." He stands from the table and heads into the kitchen, still listing punishments. "When I get out of the shower, your PlayStation, Wii, and DS better be in the closet."

The teenage gasps, horrified. "Two months! All of that? Dad that's a prison sentence!" He pauses, blinks, and then asks. "Can't I just get a whoopin'?"

"Nope."

"Ah man," Tsukuyomaru grumbles angrily, stomping to the bedroom. "I'm not speaking to you the whole time!" He shouts down the hall.

"That's a blessing!" Sesshomaru calls back, chuckling. He doesn't pay any mind to the door slamming. He'll let his son have his tantrum. Serves him right for making him second guess the way he treated that human.

* * *

Text Messages:

 _Hiten_

 **Tsukuyomaru**

 **How bad didja get it?**

 _Man, I'm grounded for a whole fuckin' month! Dad's got me on a leash shorter than my pubs. Fuck you for getting me into this. :(_

 **Shut up, I'm on punishment for two months. Shows how much of a pansy your dad is compared to mine.**

 _Again, fuck you. When do we move to Phase Two?_

 **You asked if you can come to the game tomorrow?**

 _Are you retarded? Of course I didn't ask. Why would he lemme go when he placed me on lockdown?_

 **Didn't you tell him about the crush?**

 _Duh, but I didn't wanna have to out myself to him like that. I wanted to wait until I was eighteen. Ugh, now he's gonna think I want you. I'm sick. . ._

 **Lol aww whatever baby doll. I've seen you check out my ass.**

 _I'm_ BI-SEXUAL _, not dead. Anyone with half a cock would get hard after seeing you bend over._

 **Lmao just ask him will ya? Your dad looks like he won't be able to resist allowing his sweet widdle son from seeing his crush play football.**

 _You're an ass. I hate you. I'll ask, but don't expect positive results._

 **Try real hard. If this works, Phase Two will go into effect tomorrow night.**

 _Whatever. He's gonna say no because he's boring._

 **We'll see. Ttyl.**

* * *

What on earth is he doing here?

None of this suited Inuyasha's style. Trust his own stupid conscience to let himself get suckered by those baby red eyes. Hiten worked him better than any cute puppy could a little girl. In exchange for an added month of punishment, he really wanted a chance to see his crush in action on the field against their high school's bitter rivals; the Dalton High Jaguars.

Inuyasha knew he should have stayed firm, put his foot down on the matter and ended all discussion over it. But, but Hiten never asks for anything more than he needs. School supplies, clothes, trips to the museums, the typical necessities. And it's his son's crush. How could Inuyasha stand in the way of that? He could accept it. Plus, it's a guy, so no worries of teenage pregnancy.

But he couldn't fathom why Hiten was so adamant about pressuring him into joining him? It was his son's last day of real freedom. Why not go spend it with his friends instead of his father? Now look at him. Surrounded by all this commotion and rowdiness?

Inuyasha hated crowds. More so, he despised boisterous, rebellious, unruly people who had no respect for personal space. Really? He'd bumped into twenty shoulders and was positive he got a whiff of someone's musky ass armpits while weaving through the masses. Everywhere he ganders there's hordes of small children, dashing across the grassy lawns behind the twenty-stair metal blenches horse-shoeing the football field. Teenagers stood huddled by the wired fences wearing painted faces and letterman jackets.

Hiten was wearing one too; about two sizes too big for him, reaching as far as his knees. The back read SHAWL in big black letters across the shoulder blades. And Hiten wore it proudly. Call Inuyasha a romantic, but he couldn't help smiling for his son. Even if the one he crushed on was the young brat to get him in trouble.

"Come on, Dad. We gotta find good seats!" Hiten called from up ahead.

Inuyasha adjusted the collar around his leather jacket before climbing up the stony stairwell. Three extra steep walks up the steps and pushing through legs and junk food cluttering the ground, Hiten and Inuyasha find a suitable space five levels beneath the announcer's booth.

The scoreboard flashed the latest three pointer to the home team after a successful field goal. Inuyasha blew into his hands to quell the chill gripping at his fingers. It was getting nippy out here.

"Hey," a nudge grabs his attention. Inuyasha lifts an eyebrow in his son's direction. "Thanks for bringin' me, Dad. I'm glad you came too."

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "I couldn't let 'cha come alone. Besides, I'm cool with the whole crush thing. After the game," his mouth twisted to the side, "I mean if ya meet the kid afterwards, hugging is allowed, but if I end up seein' ya'll kissin'. . . I'm gonna have to break my knee in his ass."

"Dad," Hiten playfully elbows him. "Knock it off. Channel that attitude towards the game, will ya?" He laughs. "'Sides Tsukuyomaru's a gentleman. He'd ask first."

"Excuse me? So you're tellin' me is he's got fresh before? Son of—"

"Dad, sit down!" Hiten yanks on his father's arm until he returns to his seat. He sucked his teeth, shaking his head and starts paying attention to the game, but kept a good hold on his father's arm.

Inuyasha sharply curses under his breath when the crowd explodes in an uproar. The audience collectively rises and cheers in unison as number twenty-three tears across the field, dipping and dodging through big blockers. Inuyasha flinched at Tsukuyomaru managing to avoid a nasty tackle with a clever duck and spin. He's coming faster down the field, five runners gaining on him fast. Two of his teammates are charging into provide cover, he's just about there. Twenty yards away. Ten yards—

"Yikes," Inuyasha hisses sympathetically, pressing hand to his forehead when the Jaguar's Left Tackle plows through Tsukuyomaru when he touches the ninth yard. For several agonizing seconds, the audience quietly waiting with baited breath as the coaches and physical fitness assistant rushes on the field to check on his welfare. Next to Inuyasha, Hiten's lips ball tight and his hands clenched till his knuckles bleached white.

"This happens often?" he asks, hoping to shake his son of worry.

Hiten blinks rapidly next to him as if he'd totally forgot his father was present. "Um, yeah, sometimes. He got dropped about three weeks ago against the Rodger High Rams. But he normally doesn't stay down this long."

Both teams, on the field and sidelines, take a knee. Another individual is suddenly escorted to the field, wearing dark clothing; a smoke grey jeans, a black parka jacket and snapback. Even with all those clothes, Inuyasha recognized that long white hair and tall figure. The kid's father. Inuyasha squints his eyes, unknowingly drawing closer to the front rail, watching as Shawl bends over his son, speaking.

Whatever motivated speech he says works like a charm. Tsukuyomaru suddenly jack-knife's off the ground, wringing out his limbs. The crowds explode, stomping and clapping enthusiastically for their star Running Back's recovery. He's moved to the bench and substituted out. Not once had Inuyasha's eyes strayed away from the kid and his father interacting. The coaches, a couple of his friends and even the fitness assistant were out there trying to help, but as soon as the kid's father appears, Tsukuyomaru's ready to take the world. There's a strong bond between the two.

Hiten smirks. He looks over the rail and like magic, things start going better then he'd hoped. Mr. Shawl leaves the sideline after an encouraging slap on Tsukuyomaru's shoulder, and aims for the concession stands. Fate was practically tossing them chances.

"Um, Dad I'm feelin' thirsty, but. . ." Hiten quietly looks at the field below. "I don't wanna . . . ya know, just in case."

Inuyasha rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, watch your boyfriend." He ruffles his hair, and stands. "What's your poison, sport?"

"Orange Fanta. That joint there," Hiten points at the third stand next to the second largest one in the center of the yard, "is the only one you can buy Fanta drinks. Oh, and grab some nachos, a chili dog—loaded—and loaded fries."

Inuyasha cocks an eyebrow, then chuckles. "Boy, your butthole's destined for Hell. We're gonna have to fumigate the whole block."

"Dadddddd, TMI. Come on!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I gotcha." Inuyasha leaves for the side stairs, and makes his way through the gaggles. When he reaches the concession stands, the lines are filed in front of three server windows per building. The prices are plastered on the walls in white paint.

It should be criminal how much people tolerant this greasy junk. Inuyasha's nostrils capture every individual ingredient like a fish net, catching whiff after every processed whiff of the pre-packaged food. He didn't harp on his son's tastes, but damn if he didn't try converting him to eating only naturally made meals. Inuyasha was tempted to run inside the establishment and do away with everything. The chili smells thick of old meat, chili powder, and company spices. The melted cheese used on the nachos were definitely out of a can and he swears those fries have been sitting out for more than ten minutes.

Inuyasha presses the back of his hand under his nose and closes his eyes. Nothing here is made to order. No way in Hell. It stunk of imperfection. Inuyasha stifles a weak groan with a cough and steps back waving in front of his face. As Inuyasha pivoted in place, readying a good lie about why he refused to subject his son to this garbage, his ankle catches the side of someone's foot and the owner's hands balance on his shoulders like steel clamps.

"Whoa, easy there lil' man. It's a bit early to be tipsy, ain't it?"

Inuyasha was too dizzy to care about how this man's voice buzzed in his chest like a jar of rattled bees. "Outta my way, Shawl," he grumbles, cradling his brow.

"You're offerin' your place in line? Fine."

Inuyasha yelps when the collar of his jacket is yanked and he's literally flung to the side. Whilst wavering frantically to stay balanced, he glares at the tall demon who's taken it upon himself to replace Inuyasha in line. That singular had cleared his conscience of all guilt. Any and all chances of apologizing to this creep were shot.

"Are you serious? Get outta my way!" Inuyasha roughly wedges himself back in, ignoring the overwhelming stink.

A dark chuckle reaches his ear. "What are you doin' here, Saotome? Ya don't look like a pigskin fan."

"Mindin' my damn business, so why don't you give it a go?"

"Kinda hard to ignore someone who loudly promotes his hate for demons!" Shawl says, raising his voice to invite the rest of the surrounding people into the conversation.

Inuyasha went pale and looked around—several people, all demons were spitting fire with their eyes at him. He grins uneasily. "S-Stop playin'. You're gonna give folks the wrong idea. . ." Inuyasha clears his throat and faces forward, casually rocking on his heels, lowering his voice. "Whoa nelly, you're itchin' for me to be all over that ass."

"If you put your hands on me lil' man, I exercise the right to lay your ass out."

"You can try," the dark haired human matches just as haughtily, "and get yourself embarrassed in the process."

"I'd love to see you back that claim up."

"Touch me the wrong way and you'll get all the proof ya need."

"You threatened me first."

"Right after you made me out to be a public bigot."

The next time Inuyasha freezes when Shawl's deep voice ripples next to his hear. "Don't the words _heathen demons_ sound like something a zealot human might say?"

Inuyasha frowns and sighs a long, winded sigh. He angles his head sideways to free his ear of that horribly, cool voice, and indifferently throws, "Exactly, how prejudice does it sound when a grown man calls out a teenage boy's mixed heritage? Peer pressure's a bitch at fifteen, don't 'cha think? Imagine how hard it is for a, um, what did you call him? Oh, a _half-breed_ to deal with on a daily basis." Inuyasha gives him a quick, tense glance, then steps forward as the line moves.

The smell's still killer, but he can handle it after victoriously gaining Shawl's silence. Remembering the bitterness hanging off that single word twisted his insides. Inuyasha knew firsthand how much some demons despised half demons because they represented betrayal; demons and humans procreating consensually or non-consensually. Regardless of the circumstances, some demons were still cruelly bias to half-demons and passed those beliefs down to their children. Inuyasha's childhood friend suffered immense bullying to the point of his parents having to transfer him to another school. He hadn't seen his best friend since. No one's been able to replace him.

"Sir, you ready to order?"

Inuyasha's ripped out of his old days, to see he'd reached the service window. "Um, an orange Fanta, loaded fries, loaded nachos, a chili dog, and a bottle of water."

"Yes sir," the little girl writes down the order. "Cheese on the dog?"

"No."

"OK, that'll be—"

"Actually," Shawl's voice suddenly cuts through as he slid into view. "There's more on this order. Add another chili dog with cheese and peppers, a bag of Doritos and a Root Beer."

Inuyasha blinked. "What the Hell—"

"That'll be fifteen dollars and fifty cents," says the girl.

"Hold on, I'm not paying for—"

A large, pale hand passes a twenty through the window. "Keep the change," says Shawl. "How long until our stuff's ready?"

The little girl disappears, then returns. "My mama says it'll be about ten minutes. We gotta make more chili and cheese."

"Perfect, thanks." Shawl then grabs Inuyasha's arm and forcefully pulls him to the side, ignoring the hard swats and scratches at his hand. When they reach a private distance, Shawl has the nerve to bop Inuyasha's forehead to stop his bitch fit.

Inuyasha gawks, offended. "I'm gonna report your ass for assault!"

Shawl lazily drapes his arms against the low fence. "Good luck reportin' a cop, lil' man. You'd have better luck picking up clean shit."

"Don't call me _lil' man_ ," Inuyasha impatiently snaps. "I'm grown, same as you."

"Yet here you are rippin' and hollarin' like a temper tantrum throwin' cryin' ass, whiny ass, immature ass, embryonic ass, punk ass, bitchy ass, angry ass . . ." Here, he grins wickedly and presents his case with the spread of his hands. ". . . lil' man."

"Ya know what," Inuyasha chuckles annoyingly. "Fuck you, and good bye." He spins on his heel prepared to leave.

"Saotome, don't walk away from me!"

"Up yours, Shawl. Shove it, right up yours!" The sound of loud footsteps clomping against the ground put Inuyasha on edge. He turns around, fight mad and ready to make Shawl's ears bleed. "What do you want—" He's bopped on the brow again. "Damn it, I swear to God—"

Then a hand's clapped over his mouth. Shawl dips his head lower to Inuyasha's level, slanted eyes dark and narrowed. "Shut. Up. OK? Jesus, never seen a man talk so much."

Inuyasha puts as much rage into his eyes as he can muster. Glee suddenly enters his gaze however. Shawl's expression morphs to disgust when a wet sweep glides along his palm. He rips his hand away, wiping it on his pants. "Real mature, Saotome."

"If you would've left me alone—"

"—I'm tryin' to talk to you—"

"For what?"

"To apologize, dumbass!"

Shawl clenched his jaw and looked away, flushed in the cheeks. Inuyasha, on the other hand, is dumbfounded. He hadn't expected, well, ever, to receive an apology from Shawl. He didn't look like the type to admit their flaws. Shit, Inuyasha still didn't believe he is the type. Inuyasha sighs, brushing a black lock off his cheek.

"So," he grumbles, irritated. "Apologize so I can go 'bout my business."

Shawl, looks him up and down. He rubs fingers between his eyes, "I was in the wrong for what I said. I have nothing against half demons, what I said was in the heat of the moment. I was angry. . . So . . . Call my," he pauses, thinks, and then continues, pocketing his hands, "offensive scurrility a parent's automatic response to protect his own."

Inuyasha studies him closely, eyebrow cocked. "So, what're tryin' to tell me is that you automatically snap racial slurs whenever someone insults your kid?" Inuyasha aims his index fingers at Shawl. "Fuck you, for the third time this evening, pal."

Shawl rolls his eyes. "You're takin' this outta context."

"Your words, not mine."

"Fine, I'm sorry."

"Anyone ever express to you the importance of first time impressions?"

"Why are you making this difficult?"

"Why bother?"

Shawl wipes a hand over his mouth, chuckling. "Ya know what," he slides up to Inuyasha, "fuck me? Fuck you, Saotome. I'm not gonna stand here tryin' to justify my actions to you. As one father to another, I thought you'd understand why I acted defensively. Wouldn't you if you were tired of someone always accusing your son of being a hellion, even when he can't help being who he is?" And he walks by, knocking his shoulder into Inuyasha's own.

Inuyasha turns around, watching Shawl go to collect their food. He gives Inuyasha's share without a word and Inuyasha can't find it in himself to say anything either. The rest of the night escapes him, mind too thick with guilt and frustration. It'll be the second time he felt like he was responsible for being the bigger man. Why did he have to be the one with the conscience? He wasn't wrong this time, right? It sure felt that way.

During the hustle it took for Inuyasha to hurry his son to the car to beat the crowds, Inuyasha spotted Shawl weaving his way towards the Football House to retrieve his son. He wasn't that far. It'd be the perfect chance to speak and make amends. They didn't have to like each other. They could be civil. Especially for his son's sake since the kid has a crush on Tsukuyomaru. It wouldn't do much good if Sesshomaru holds on to his vendetta against Inuyasha and took it out on Hiten.

Inuyasha's internally sadly takes too long and Shawl vanishes in the mix of people. Inuyasha tries to seek out the white hair, but comes up unsuccessful. Drumming his fingers on top of his car, he nods to himself. He'll try again. Whenever the chance presented itself, he and Shawl will have a talk . . . hopefully without going at each other's throats.

* * *

Text Messages:

 _Hiten_

 **Tsukuyomaru**

 **How'd things go?**

 _I couldn't see much. They met up at the concession stand. I think they were arguing. Your Dad probably provoked mine._

 **I wouldn't be surprised. Ipso facto, he's a dick.**

 _Knowing this, how exactly will they become friends? My dad's practically a walking beehive._

 **No problem. Whatever happened, we'll figure it out and go from there. I'll keep you posted.**

 _Lol you don't give up, do ya?_

 **Not a chance. If my ole man's finally met his match, I'm rooting for this shit to work out.**

 _Lol if you're still down for it, I am too. . . BTW dude, are you alright?_

 **Uh, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?**

 _You got knocked down pretty hard during second quarter. . . You scared me._

 **Aww bro, ya ain't gotta worry. I'm good. Honest. It hurt like a bitch, but I'm straight. Dad's gonna take me to the clinic just to be on the safe side.**

 _Cool, lemme know how that goes._

 **Will do. Remember to do your homework and I don't mean for school.**

 _Got'cha._

 **Peace.**

 _Bye._

* * *

 **TBC: Ya'll know how I am with drama and twists, yeah? We'll be getting a taste of that soon. But let me ask you something. How's the progression so far? Too slow? Too fast? Just right? Hit me up. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Phase Three

**Author's Rant:** Thanks very much for reading. Please excuse any mistakes. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Phase Three**

* * *

Text Messages:

 _Hiten_

 **Tsukuyomaru**

 **Man, I don't know what your dad said to mine, but he drove home heated. The aura was so potent, I thought Satan manifested in the backseat. =0**

 _I figured something went down. My dad wasn't talking at all. The only time he came outta his shell was when my mom called last night and man oh man. . . The way those two go at it, I sometimes wonder how I was conceived. I just know someone got hurt in the process and I don't think it was my mom._

 **Lol you clown! Anyway, thanks to this lil' roadblock, my mind's a blank. Whatever happened, my ole man doesn't wanna test fate and meet your dad again. I have no idea where to go from here**.

 _I say we give them a couple of days to cool off before we set up another rendezvous._

 **Where? I doubt you wanna wait until the next game. We're goin' outta town for that one.**

 _That's a no-go then. I doubt my dad will let me breach my punishment a second time. But I have something in mind. When is Mr. Shawl's next off day?_

 **He was off this whole weekend so, Wednesday and Thursday, I think.**

 _Thursday is perfect! That gives them almost a whole week to calm down._

 **I keep forgetting you don't know my father; the one and only Sesshomaru Tomalin Shawl, who is legendary in holding coveted grudges. He's still pissed at the ice cream man for jibbing him out of a quarter.**

 _So? I would be too. You know how much you can buy for twenty-five cents? That's a pickle._

 **But it happened three years ago!**

 _Dude shit, why does your ole man gotta be such a case?!_

 **Ask Satan. He had a hand in makin' 'im.**

 _OK, well, I say we still give it a go anyway. My dad owns a restaurant on the edge of town. Ask Mr. Shawl if you can go there after school. I'll be there. If my dad sees you, it'll play on his heart to let us spend time together. We can work on getting them to speak to one another from there._

 **I'll try. What's the place called?**

 _The Tessaiga._

 **Stop lyin'. Your dad owns Tessaiga? Bro, that place is slammin'. The team's always talkin' about how good the food is!**

 _Really?_

 **Hell yeah! I'm down for this. But I think we may need to bring in a third party. My dad will only stretch his limits on my punishment so far. One of our classmate's father is on my dad's team. I think we can, ya know, finesse this with his help.**

 _This'll be interesting. Who's the extra wheel?_

 **Lol you'll see.**

* * *

"I know you didn't just ask me this."

"C'mon babe, ya know I'm good on fulfillin' favors."

"Honey, have you taken leave of your senses? What makes you think you have _anything_ I could possibly want?"

Hiten takes a deep breath and forces himself to spend a couple of minutes thinking of something other than strangling his archrival with a crowbar and stares at the rows of plants clustered before him. Something told him not to trust Tsukuyomaru's idea. Hiten was just fine with it being the two of them. Now they're bringing in another accomplish. He would've be cool with anyone, _anyone_ else getting involved, but why did it have to be _her_? The one student in this entire school who matched him grade for grade, contest per contest. It's why he kept his distance from the pair. Being near her made his skin itch.

Besides, they didn't need his input anyway. He has his assignment to focus on. Hiten bent over the emerald green brew boiling, wafting up the fumes to his nose. The smell wasn't quite on point. Balling his mouth in thought, Hiten pops his lips when he remembers to add Wolfsbane and ground green mint to the concoction. He lowers a little more to study the transparent color, smiling when the coloration achromatizes to a lime green to signify it stabilizing. All the changes are recorded in his notebook, then he moves to check on the other three tonics to study their reactions after receiving a similar oddities.

Hiten knew his assignment was shimmering properly, but it had to be approved by his group leader. That was where his preppy rival comes into play. Hiten learned the hard way that it's better to be silent and humble, then blunt and honest against her critical eye. Even when he knew he was right, she'd find some way to discredit his opinions with an easily overlooked flaw. So he stepped to the side when he felt a tight tap to his shoulder and averted his gaze to the side when Ayame Spartan stepped forward to examine his work.

When she bumps her hip against his side to add more space, Hiten clenches his jaw hard to stifle the growl before it began. He's gotten better at controlling his reactions to her antics and gives himself a mental pat on the back for it.

"What say you to this, Aya?" Tsukuyomaru moves into her personal space, voice low and tempting near her ear. "You scratch my back, and ya know, I wouldn't mind scratchin' somethin' of yours."

"Honey, please," she flicks her wrist at him. "Step off, I'm working here." Then returns to scrutinizing Hiten's project.

Tsukuyomaru raises his hands, chuckling. "Fine, multitask, but hear me out. This is important. We really need your cooperation on this."

Ayame's sigh leaves her lips like a punctured balloon. "So, why do you think I would want to associate myself with a couple of juvenile delinquents?" She glimpse him through long lashes, green eyes sparkling mischievously. "Trust me, the whole school knows about you and that _thing's_ ," she turns her thumb in Hiten's direction, ignoring his light smack to her finger, "marathon of mayhem. I dare you to deny it. You thought Jakotsu had the four-one-one around this campus? Not like me. I have the eight-two-two."

"I imagine you _would_ have ears to the ground," Hiten grumbles. "Since your backside never seems to leave it."

"Watch yourself you fat forehead-ed hoodlum. Just remember between the two of us," she gestures between them, "who's been placed on probation. I mean, ouch, how embarrassed do you think the Science Honor Society is of their Vice President's behavior? I've already recommended your impeachment."

Hiten gawks. "I swear you lowdown, dirty skank, if I lose my seat 'cause of your mouth, so help me I'll mount your head on my wall!"

"No need. If I wanted to die bad enough I'd climb your ego and jump down to your IQ."

Tsukuyomaru maneuvers himself between them, latching onto Hiten's elbow. "Excuse us a sec, sweetie." He offers a charming smile and a wink in a manner he hopes adequately settles her down as he escorts his best friend to the back of the class.

Ayame and Hiten stared poisonous daggers at each other the whole time as he was practically dragged away. She sticks out her tongue and turns her back, to which he promptly flips her off, hissing a threatening sibilate through clenched teeth. The noise drew the disapproving glances from several of their classmates. Tsukuyomaru's glad their teacher had stepped out to miss this.

"Let go of me," Hiten snatches his arm away, striding over to sulk in a corner. "Damn I hate that tramp. Everyone's allowed bitchy quotas, but she abuses the privilege!"

Tsukuyomaru locks his bottom lip between his teeth because he was an inch from doubling over. Laughing at his best friend with the mood he was in wouldn't help their cause at all and the last thing he needed was to have Hiten thinking he was against him. So he sucks in a deep breath and goes to softly clap his hand on Hiten's shoulder, cocking his head to the side to see his face.

"I know she's the last person you wanna work with," Tsukuyomaru tries gently rubbing Hiten's shoulder, "but this'll help us in the long run. If we get her and her father to help us pull this off, it'll look less staged."

Hiten continues scowling, but says, "Ya know she's gonna want something in return. That's the kind of scandalous hoe she is. I'd know. The stupid trick had the nerve to report me when I objected her remarks on my last project. I could've had a hundred average in my Gemology class last semester, but she botched that up all because I wouldn't hook her up with you and Jura. _Like she needs any more trains running through that gapping tunnel_!" He purposely raises his voice knowing very well how excellent her hearing is and is gratified to see her react accordingly; she illustrates a death threat across her throat.

Tsukuyomaru awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, eyes skating between his best friend and Ayame. "I already got our deal worked out. I know what she wants and believe me, I don't have a problem helping."

Hiten's mouth twists in disgust. "You're sick." He makes to leave, only to be yanked back. "I guess I should expect this. She's your type; less than standard quality and foul."

"Don't even go there. Me and Ayame got history, but not in that sense."

Hiten stubbornly angles his face away, ashamed to show the relief that he knew was etched on all over his features, as he continued to get a grip on the bountiful emotions filling inside him that he couldn't understand. So what if they knew one another before Hiten came around. Someone like Ayame doesn't deserve a good guy like Tsukuyomaru. He has his faults, but a crooked wiseass like her did as well.

Tsukuyomaru's sigh blows over the tip of Hiten's ear when he moves close behind him, peering over his shoulder to see his face. "Don't be a brat. Just work with me on this. Please? Pretty please?" He adds, amused. "You know you can't stay mad at me. Not at this face. I'll be damned if that's possible."

A little smile tilts the ends of Hiten's lips.

"See, there's that sunshine."

"Whatever," Hiten's voice huffs between a sneer and a laugh, waving his hand. "Get away already. Your breath's hotter than brimstone."

"You lie!" Tsukuyomaru tests the insult by breathing into his hand and sniffing. "Oh damn, my shit is tart. I almost knocked myself out." He gives a strange, devilish look in Hiten's direction.

Hiten grabs a nearby beaker and holds it up like a sword. "Breathe that in my face and see what happens."

"Still damaging school property, Hiten? Apparently being put on the Wall of Shame isn't enough."

Hiten rolls his eyes, lowering the glass back on the table. Ayame strolls up to him, slamming his graded checklist on his chest.

"Congratulations, Mr. Saotome. I guess you are smarter than the average bear." She smacks her ponytail in his face and walks over to Tsukuyomaru. "I've given your proposition some thought. I'll help you organize this, but on one condition."

"Figures," Hiten slides into the conversation, swatting at her pigtail. "What do you want, Wicked Witch?"

"We're meeting at the Tessaiga right? There's a new cook there. I want you to give them my number."

"What? Not a chance!" Hiten immediately rejects. "Everybody who works there is above eighteen. You're not gonna set my dad up on rape charges!"

Ayame flips a bit of hair off her face. "Fine, that'll be a bit forward anyway. Just invite my crush over to our table and we'll call it even. I'm fine enough to get their attention."

"Hell. No."

"Then I won't lean my help."

"Fine with me. I didn't want your whorish fumes stankin' up my personal space anyway!"

Tsukuyomaru rolls his eyes as he's forced to referee again. "Deal." He holds up his hand to silence Hiten's protest. "We'll get whoever it is to come to the table, but no more than that. No point in fucking up Mr. Saotome's rep over a misunderstanding. You do this and it works, you ride that train solo, got it? We aren't gonna let you get him blamed for statutory rape."

Ayame winks and wiggles her chest. "It's hardly illegal when we're both consenting adults." She upturns her nose and sashays back to her workstation to finish grading the rest of the class's assignments.

Hiten sneers. "I told you."

"Yeah," Tsukuyomaru scratches behind his head. "This is gonna require some extra effort. . . Any idea who she's got the hots for?"

"There's no telling. Ayame's hot for anything as long as it has two legs and a heartbeat, the bitch."

* * *

Every second Thursday of the month, Inuyasha finds himself reassessing the idea of hosting the Tessaiga's Hell Pepper Ramen Challenge because this always seems to be the day he's the most understaffed. The restaurant is packed from front to rear with customers eagerly awaiting when the lids would slide off the steaming pots. He had over twenty sixteen-quart size pots taking up half his stoves, while the remainder of his kitchen kept to preparing meals for his regular customers. The contest wasn't scheduled to begin until 4:30 p.m.; when most of his loyal contestants were off work or dismissed from school. They've yet to gain a victor, but that hardly deterred the stubborn few who refused to let themselves walk away without giving it their all.

The number of participates have more than tripled since the last quarter and keeping up with the demand was becoming tedious. Inuyasha made it mandatory that all hands be on deck for Thursday unless an unavoidable emergency came up. Which was the case for two of his junior cooks and three waiters. The workload for the missing cooks wasn't a huge deal. He and Koga could cover the loss. But the waiters were his direct line to the customers and sacrificing his cooks to wait tables wasn't an option. He'd either have to request those here double their usual areas or put himself out there.

To take his mind off the plaguing stress of accommodating for the missing help, Inuyasha concentrated on neatly plucking pinches of spices, herbs and sauces from the colorful array on the cart on his right and splashing them inside every pot. The aromas immediately pluming from the pots relaxed him, shooed away the meager concerns of dissatisfied customers and wrought the relief that no matter how helpless it may seem, things always turn out fine. Funny how simply cooking worked better than any medicine ever could.

"One of these days you'll come in here smilin' like that because of good sex."

Inuyasha made sure to keep his face slightly bent so as to pass off he wasn't the least bit effected by Koga's comment, but not even the curtain of his side-locks could disguise the flush in his cheeks. His mouth twists to the side as he leans away and shoots a lethal glare at his Sous Chef.

"Food and sex have nothing in common," he lamely counters. "You'd know that if you bothered to savor them separately."

Koga pauses, then shakes his head. "You poor thing. If you honestly think there's a difference, then I haven't done my job as a friend. When we get off, I say me and you go hit up the first bar and find you some ass. Good quality ass."

"No thanks."

"Why not? Scouring the underbelly for booty is no different than shopping for prime cut beef. Good texture and taste is what we're after," laughs Koga. "Come on, bud. It'll be fun."

Inuyasha blinks and frowns. "We aren't friends."

"Sure we are. You just don't know it."

"I think I'd be able to notice if I had one," Inuyasha grumbles, stirring a ladle through the noodles. He leans back a little, partially to relieve the tension in his lower back and waves his hand. "Shouldn't you be over there making sure my pots aren't overflowing?"

Koga looks up strangely studying Inuyasha's profile. Then he rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I'm on it," he mumbles, walking away.

Inuyasha hated how fast his mouth moved before his brain. Not even he's immune to his own harshness. Keeping a strict manager-employee relationship is how things get done. Boundaries need to be set and he didn't feel comfortable with establishing friendships or more with people who worked for him. It could easily lead to compromise and how many times has he heard stories of companies suffering internally due to a boss being unable to maintain a profession demeanor? He didn't like to be cold, but well, at least it kept him from having to try and be friends. And ensured his restaurant came first.

Inuyasha's mouth opened on a slow exhale, then closed. And then he collected his inner thoughts and shut down the guilt and self-consciousness to focus on the task at hand. Providing exquisite service for the hundreds of waiting mouths.

* * *

Text Messages

 _Hiten_

 **Tsukuyomaru**

Ayame

 **Jesus man, what's goin' on? It's packed out. I can't find a parking spot!**

What in the Sam Hell is this? There's a damn line at the door!

 _Crap, I forgot today was Hell Pepper Ramen Thursday._

Where do you expect us to sit dumbass? The floor?

 _Why not? You oughta feel right at home there._

You wanna get acquainted with it when I knock you out?

 _I'm praying you're stupid enough to try, bitch!_

 **Ya'll damn, let's not do this. But she's right, Hiten. How do you expect us to get inside?**

 _There's a section of the restaurant reserved for employees only. I always eat there whenever I come by._

 **So?**

 _So, you and the red haired skankateer can come in the back entrance with me. My dad will set us up there._

Fuck you, Hiten.

 _Not a chance, witch. Unlike you, I know STD doesn't stand for Suck That Dick._

 **Enough! Damn, ya'll are worse than a pack of kindergartners. Hiten where do I park? I'm not gonna risk my ride getting scratched.**

 _Come to the back of the building. I'll guide you in._

I hope this works. I can't believe I let myself get dragged into your mess. . .

 _We promised Lucifer to bring you back by the stroke of midnight, Pumpkin Head._

Fuck you, Billboard Hoe!

 _Shut up and go park! Damn, you got one job outside of sucking dick, so do it. Call your ole man and tell him we're here!_

 **. . . SMDH. I'm gonna remove ya'll from this chat. I dunno what the hell I was thinking.**

* * *

Inuyasha raised his eyebrows. "Hiten?"

His son emerged from the backway of the kitchen, sporting an overwhelmingly bright smile as he moved up to wrap his father in a bear hug. "Hiya Dad, what's good?"

"Uh, everything's everything, son." Inuyasha returns the embrace with as much as is given. Then he grabs the base of Hiten's pigtail and gives it a reprimanding tug. "But you know you're on house arrest. What the Hell are you doing here?"

Hiten's face flushed scarlet along the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, about that. Um, Dad, can we talk? Not in the kitchen. I'm not prepped to help out today."

"You good?" Inuyasha asks inflexibly. "Everything OK?"

"Everything's fine, Dad. Just come." Hiten grabs his hand and moves through the thong of line cooks and servants, tossing the occasional greet and smile to those who recognized him. Once they reached Inuyasha's office, the teenager closed and locked the door. He braced his back against the entrance, glancing somewhat awkwardly at the floor. "So, I know it's a stretch to bother you with favors considering I've pretty much burned that bridge after my last stunt at the school—"

"You're stallin' something awful kid." Inuyasha goes to the small refrigerator tucked in a corner behind his desk and retrieves two chilled canisters of homemade smoothies, with pureed strawberry, mangos, kiwi, mint leaves and coaxed in chilled milk. He passes one to his son and waits until he's taken a healthy gulp before urging him to continue.

Hiten wipes mouth with the back of his hand, inhaling and exhaling. "I need your help with something. I may have gone and ran my mouth a bit at school . . . I heard some of the older kids talkin' about how much they loved the Tessaiga and sort of blurted out that my father owns the place."

"I do," Inuyasha bluntly affirms, eyebrows up again. "So?"

"So, I kind of," Hiten scratches behind his head, "implied that I have the hook-up. And . . . Tsukuyomaru overheard and I invited him and a friend here. Today. In fact, they're outside right now."

Inuyasha's face pinches into his signature scowl. "Hiten—" he starts.

"I know, I know." Hiten regretfully holds up his free hand, looking remorseful for his actions. "I should've done the sensible thing and kept my mouth shut. I couldn't help it, Dad. It isn't new news that I have a thing for Tsukuyomaru and I said it in front of a bunch of people. I couldn't back out on my word. If I don't prove something, then I'll go back to school a chump . . . it's already hard enough for me being surrounded by demons and humans who already see me as an abomination." His face grimaces as he turns to stare through the viewing window facing the kitchen. "I could really use your help, Dad. Please?"

Inuyasha applies pressure to the space between his eyes, thinking how he wished he could maintain his sternness. But damn if this brat couldn't pull heartstrings with the expertise of a harpist. Of course Inuyasha knew about the hardships his son faced for merely existing. He'd hoped that those kids would grow out of their bullying and adjust to his presence. If there were problems, Hiten never said anything. That worried him now. Inuyasha prayed his son wasn't suffering social abuse. . .

"Just this once." Inuyasha inwardly feels elated to be the reason behind his son's sudden delight, but masks the emotion by keeping up his hard expression. He shifts from his position and fakes a hard glare. "But we're gonna negotiate. I'm adding another week on your sentence and you're gonna come here to serve it washing dishes."

Hiten blanches, and pouts. "I guess that's fair." He shrugs. "Cool, deal. Can I pick the table?"

"Yeah, just keep the rope up so no one else walks in."

"Thanks a ton, Dad!" Hiten throws his arms around Inuyasha's waist. "You're the coolest!" Then he sprints out of the office for the backdoor.

Inuyasha chuckles, while straightening the wrinkles his son accidentally pressed into his uniform. He liked to think he was the coolest dad there is. Not a lot of children can proudly say their parents owed a famous restaurant. He wondered what sort of friends his son was inviting. He knew about Tsukuyomaru, but Hiten mentioned a friend . . .

* * *

"Can I sleep with my eyes closed tonight?"

Sesshomaru glanced next to him, but Naraku kept his eyes trained on securing a parking spot outside the restaurant his daughter blatantly insisted joining her at. The demand to bring a friend was one thing, but requesting Sesshomaru specifically made him slightly suspicious, but just a bit. He would've invited Sesshomaru anyway before anyone else on the team. They'd lucked up and stayed to a routine street patrol, which meant their team was allowed to leave at regular office hours.

Naraku had no plans other than picking up his daughter and taking her to visit her aunt, but then Ayame called asking if he would come to this joint to meet her friends. Friends being a very loose term because she kept an extremely busy social schedule. There were so many young girls running though his house on a weekly basis, his neighbors suspected him of operating a trafficking ring.

When his black Challenger's fitted between a Tahoe and a Suburban, Naraku cuts the engine, hesitating to make a move. Sesshomaru hadn't uttered a word since somehow allowing himself to be tricked into coming here. At least he believes he was tricked. Naraku had told him that they would be going out, but he may have omitted certain details. Like this being a joyous outing as friends.

He drummed his fingers over the steering wheel before sighing and turning to face his superior. "Look man, if you aren't comfortable, I can drive ya back to your car." Though he hoped his dampened tone would play on Sesshomaru's nonexistent conscience and convince him to stick around. "Nothing's keepin' you here."

Sesshomaru continued his unreadable stare until Naraku squirmed uncomfortably. The minuet action seemed to trigger something satisfactory because the corners of Sesshomaru's lips tilted into an evil smirk. Then he got out of the car, silently beckoning for Naraku to follow. But the officer had to catch his breath. When people smile, it's often a contagious gesture. Sesshomaru's the absolute exception to that rule. He makes a person scared for their life.

The only reason Sesshomaru had taken Naraku up on his offer was for the fact that he planned to knock his son's head clean off his shoulders. No one gave the boy permission to skip punishment just because he felt like chilling with his friends. Where did he get the audacity to be so damn disobedient? Sesshomaru didn't care if Tsukuyomaru believed his social status and popularity were important. Getting his education and getting the Hell out of Sesshomaru's house is what the father cared about. Popularity be damned.

He hated disobedience, but not as much as lines. He hated lines and hated crowds even more. Facing more than one of his long list of annoyances usually brought out his inner asshole. This is the first time he's been to this part of town. He'd only heard about the swank restaurant through the grapevine and the few times it flashed up on the media. Sesshomaru hadn't anticipated it being this well-known though.

People from every manners of life were waiting their turn to be served. Demons, humans, hanyous, children, adults and teenagers eagerly stood in line, chattering about whatever. Sesshomaru moved to the end of the line, left eye twitching. He was in line a hot minute when five more people filed in behind him. Just what in the world was going on today?

"Sesshomaru, what'cha doin' man?"

Sesshomaru angled his head around to see Naraku waving from the front. Sesshomaru lifted his hand, confused.

Naraku pointed inside. "We already got our seats reserved!"

Blessed be, fate was good. Sesshomaru didn't have the impatience nor the nose to deal with so many sweaty people at once. Entering the establishment, he found the inside wasn't any better. Folks were stuffed in from wall to wall, seating four or more at a table; some of whom didn't even look like they knew one another. He turned on his heel prepared to leave Naraku alone to figure out later that he dipped, but the sound of a familiar man's husky tone put a halt in his stride and a certain pitch in his stomach. . .

* * *

Fate is some kind of sadistic bitch. Here Inuyasha kind of thought he wouldn't be granted another chance at redeeming himself before Shawl, but there the man was, tall as redwood, swallowing up the entrance to his restaurant and looking every bit the intimidating cop. The words Inuyasha had started to speak out before his customers held up in his throat as he locked eyes with Shawl's hazel gold glare.

He looked ready to leave. Perhaps he still will. If he did, Inuyasha didn't know whether he'd stop him. There could be other times that they'd meet, but how coincidental was it that he'd show up the same day his son was here with Inuyasha's? The restaurant owner swallowed, then stiffened his back, keeping his gaze steadily focused forward.

People were giving him strange looks. He chuckles uneasily, scratching behind his head.

"As I was saying, we're about to kick off our weekly Hell Pepper Ramen Contest. For the far few of you who're new to this, I am Inuyasha Saotome, the owner of the Tessaiga and creator of the Hell Pepper Ramen Bowl. Let me go ahead and warn you now that for those of you who are participating in the contest, these noodles come with a discretion label. As I so often must share with our hardheaded regulars," that earns him amused laughs from the audience, "you're eating this at your own risk. Don't come crying to me about suffering heartburn, diarrhea, vomiting, headaches, stomachaches, none of that. Proceed with caution. These noodles are not for the faint of heart. They're hot as Hell. Maybe hotter. Am I gonna tell you what's in them? Nope, because the consent forms being passed out to you by my Sous Chef, Koga Wolfe, all contain the full list of ingredients used to make it. I'm not trying to be sued. It'd behoove all of you to read the list carefully. As soon as you've signed, hold up your paper and be prepared to experience a hell like no other!" The crowd clapped enthusiastically when Inuyasha disappeared in the kitchen and returned with three others pushing large carts stacked with porcelain bowls and enormous bowls of the steaming out ramen.

The whole while Inuyasha went about passing out bowls, his eyes kept straying over to where Shawl stood near the doorway, watching with lazy eyes. It was a little disconcerting. Inuyasha felt like he was being examined on a petri dish with how intense that stare was. He ignored it for the most part, but having Shawl remain by the door was creating a mild stir. Some humans couldn't stop casting wary glances behind them at the tall, white haired demon officer. Inuyasha sighed. Shawl is either oblivious to the stares, or just doesn't care. Inuyasha wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter.

By the time he reached his tenth table, Inuyasha was annoyed. Maybe for some folks it isn't a big deal to be stared at, but he couldn't stand the feeling. It made his skin crawl. And what's with how incredibly direct he is with it? Not once had he turned away, sneezed or even scratched his nose.

"Excuse me, may I pass?"

Inuyasha glances up in time to see a timid older woman tapping Shawl on the shoulder. At least Shawl has the decency to shed that glowering expression of his when he faces the small woman and steps aside to let her through. Inuyasha hands over another ramen bowl just as he's distantly aligned with Shawl, and having dealt with the staring long enough, decides to put an end to it with brute kindness.

Inuyasha spins on one heel and lets a smile stretch his lips. "Welcome to the Tessaiga, Mr. Shawl, will you be dining a table for one or two?" He thought better of plainly looking to see if he entered with another person. Shawl didn't need to assume Inuyasha was out to invade in his personal business.

Shawl stayed standing still for so long, Inuyasha wondered if he'd gone deaf. Then a sly smirk creeps upon Shawl's thin lips and it's strange how solaced Inuyasha is to see it there. He doubts a brooding man would smile at anyone if they still carried a grudge. Right?

"I think a table's already been set for me and my company." Shawl unfolds his arms, opting to cup his hands behind his back, still wearing that odd smirk. "Why don't you provide the exquisite service expected of you and take me there, Inu-ya-sha."

A vein suddenly pulsates in Inuyasha's temple, but he maintains his calm. "Of course, sir. Give me a moment to find you a waiter—"

"No, I'd prefer to have the head of the joint as my escort, thank you."

"I apologize for the inconvenience, but that request isn't procurable—"

"The customer's satisfaction is priority above all else," Shawl coolly interrupts, marring an innocent frown on his brow. "I mean," he shrugs, "isn't that what the fine print says at the bottom of your restaurant's menu?" Then a dangerous shine glints in Shawl's eyes. "Or is the foundation of your business built upon false advertisement in order to secure a quick buck from your customers?"

Bottom lip draw between teeth, Inuyasha was certain he'd broken the skin from how hard he'd been gnawing on it the whole while Shawl spoke. He wanted so much to drive his fist through the arrogant man's throat for insinuating such harsh accusations. Inuyasha slowly counted backwards from twenty to zero to alleviate his accumulating anger and settled himself down. He offers a professional smile, cupping his hands in front of him.

"Yes sir, you're correct. My restaurant's well known for providing the best service. If what you prefer is my personal courtesy, who am I do to deny you?" Inuyasha hoped the sound of grinding stones was evident in his tone and would put off Shawl from trying to further test Inuyasha's temper. But judging by that incurably evil smile, Shawl wasn't the least bit fazed. "Will your company be joining you later?" _Perhaps to avoid being seen in public with a repulsive jackass like you?_

"He's over there in that roped off section of the restaurant. With your son, my son and his daughter, I think. I'm afraid I'll faint gettin' there, I'm so hungry. Can we get on with it, Inu-ya-sha?"

Inuyasha's jaw set in a tightening motion when he angled his head straight to the roped off portion of his business and saw his son looking directly at him. Next to Hiten's table, there sat another demon gentleman with cascading black hair and inhuman red eyes, reading through the menu.

Upon catching Hiten staring, he ducks behind his menu. Too late. Inuyasha's mouth twists to the side. He'll kill the brat later.

Inuyasha sighs. "This way," he flicks his index finger for Shawl to follow him through the thong of tables and bustling waiters. On his way there, Inuyasha signals Koga over with a short wave of his hand.

His Sous Chef notices, excuses himself from the family table he'd been assisting and makes a beeline over. "What's up?"

Inuyasha cups his hand over his mouth to hide his lips. "I gotta personally serve this bastard demon following behind me—what's wrong?" Inuyasha questions at Koga's visibly grimace. Koga looks over their shoulder and his expression changes from curious to pained.

"What?" Inuyasha demands again.

"Ya know he can hear everything you're 'bout to say, right?"

"What, how?"

Koga rolls his eyes. "You should've paid attention in your demonology classes." He sighs, jerking his thumb back at the officer. "Those markings on his face? They hail from a strong line of dog demons. Their hearing is about as acute as my race."

Inuyasha slaps his own forehead. "Jesus, there's no end to this guy's torture on me!"

Shawl's throaty laugh slams him like the aftermath of atomic bomb. Inuyasha felt his insides warming with contempt, both at being the butt end of some stupid demon joke and for inwardly admiring how good a laugh sounds coming from the man. He shakes his head at Koga beckons for him to come closer anyway.

"Just take over things for me until I get rid of him."

Koga gives the thumbs up. "Got'cha, Chef." Then he melts into the busy crowds.

Inuyasha unhooks the red rope and gives a small bow, sweeping his free hand to permit Shawl's entrance. As he passes, the trailing scent of earthy Axe fills Inuyasha's sensitive nostrils like the coming whiffs of freshly brewed produce; so strong and addictive. Someone like Shawl doesn't deserve to smell that nice.

All eyes fall on them, except for Hiten, as Inuyasha leads Shawl over to be seated with the other man. "Here you are, Mr. Shawl and here's your menu. Can I start you gentlemen with a drink?"

"I'll have this uh," the dark haired fellow scratches his brow without glancing up from his menu. "Whatcha call this drink? A what?"

"Chattanooga Splash, compliments of Tennessee."

"Oh, cool. Lemme get that, your appetizer sample—make the wings extra hot, extra crunchy—and the pineapple double monster."

Inuyasha jotted down the order. "Very good. Any dessert?"

"Nah, gotta watch my figure."

That brings a small smirk to Inuyasha's lips. "OK." Then he turns dull, bored eyes to the other adult. "And you? What would you like, _sir_?"

"Hmmm," Sesshomaru loudly smacks his lips, making show of reading through the menu and then shakes his head. "I dunno anything about your place." He snaps the menu shut and hands it out. "Bring me something that'll make me come a second time."

Inuyasha blinked with honest to goodness innocent confusion at the request. "There's . . . well, that'll be a challenge—"

"You're not up to it?"

"Of course! You can't even call this a challenge."

Sesshomaru's saucy smirk shoots a chill up Inuyasha's spine. "Well then, hop to it Inu-ya-sha." He holds out the menu, bouncing his eyebrows.

Inuyasha growls, snatching the folded menu from Sesshomaru's hand and gently taking the others from the other guests. However, when he reaches his son's table, he lowers his hand on the back of his neck, discreetly squeezing until his nails dug through the skin. Hiten wisely didn't flinch, shooting an uneasy smile up at his father.

That expression quickly melted into a terrified when noticing the knot throbbing on his father's temple. "Oh crap," he murmured.

"Hiten, son," Inuyasha started, pleasantly polite as can be, "since we unexpectedly received some priority customers in the _privacy section_ , I'll be taking care of these two's order. But you," here, he lightly slaps Hiten's neck, "you're gonna cook whatever meal your two friends here desire. Free of charge of course."

Hiten's entire face washes free of color. "Dad—"

"No exceptions, brat." Then Inuyasha turns a kind smile to the other teenagers. "You two enjoy yourselves and don't hesitate to tell Hiten here if you need anything. He's your slave until further notice."

"Mmmm, with pleasure with Mr. Saotome," Ayame purrs, bouncing her eyebrows sadistically in Hiten's direction. "I fully intend to take advantage of this privilege."

Hiten sneers. "Don't think I won't spit in your food." With a heavy sigh, he climbs to his feet and leaves to change out of his school clothes to wear one of the spare uniforms in his father's office.

This wasn't at all how he wanted this to go. He can only hope something good comes out of this.

* * *

If that's the game Shawl wants to play, fine. Inuyasha's more than ready to meet this challenge head on and blow this jerks expectations out of the water. Who did he think he is to come here and dare question the quality of Inuyasha's restaurant? Why, he's broken sweat, leaked blood and burned himself for this place; all for the sake of its current prosperity and success.

Inuyasha breezed through his cooks, aiming for the storage for is dry ingredients, mind already spinning with probable ideas. His thoughts were teeming with recipes and presentation. He found a good many of his menu items to be top of the line, but he wasn't sure they were enough to knock that smile off Shawl's face. No, Inuyasha needed something truly spectacular . . .

Tapping his chin in thought, the head chef's dark eyes scoured the kitchen for inspiration. Nothing sweet. Desserts were a cope out dish for this particular task. He didn't want to put effort into creating a basic appetizer either. He saw a series of meals being prepared, but couldn't think of anything new and awe-inspiring for the life of him.

This wasn't like him. It usually took nothing for him to develop a new dish and put it out. Then he realized why he was so stomped. He hated to admit, but he felt almost compelled to impress Shawl into seeing him for his skills. The bastard was already being an ass about Inuyasha's name. Hell, for years the human wondered why his parents thought it was cool to bestow him a demon name.

"Hey Boss, what's gotcha all tight faced?"

Inuyasha's hand fell where it was propped under his chin and let it fold across his chest. "I'm trying to think of a recipe," he says to Koga, then looks at his Sous Chef curiously. "What do you know about a dog demon's diet? I doubt they taught that in demonology 101."

"No," Koga smirks, "That's actually taught in 103. And I'm surprised you asked, considering we aren't buddies and all. Anyway," Koga starks before Inuyasha has a chance to chastise him, "can we not use the word _diet_ , please? That makes it sound like you're prepping food for an animal."

Inuyasha held his tongue to dispute that comment and allows Koga to continue.

"A dog demon's preferences aren't that much different from a wolf's. We're just an older race than them, so their pallets are used to a, um, I guess modern food choices. Premium meats, rice, veggies high in vitamins, every fish oil you can think of and—"

Inuyasha held up his hand, eyes wide. "That's no different from a normal dog."

"Well, yeah. Dog demons are just humanized dogs." Slowly, Inuyasha's mind began to work into overdrive. He'd made homemade dog food before for Kagome's dog before. The ingredients were stupidly simple and edible for humans and dogs. However, that particular meal was more customized for her dog's taste. So . . . could he possibly make a similar combination, but add a different twist to it? Perhaps, create the flavors of both worlds.

"Wow, I do not like that look," Koga murmured, lifting a worried eyebrow at his employer.

Inuyasha's smirk turns positively devious. His imagination should be labeled a weapon. He knew exactly how to satisfy that dick's appetite and render him a too speechless to ever insult his chef skills again. This was going to be very interesting. All he needed was about forty-five minutes of pure determination, a full table to experiment on and a whole ton of humble pie that asshole was going to have shoved down his throat.

Sesshomaru kept a steady eye on Inuyasha throughout his movements in the kitchen. Even during the short moments he'd disappeared, Sesshomaru eventually found the shorter male rummaging through a drawer for a utensil or barking orders at his employees about the welfare of a dish. Sesshomaru will give credit where it's due and he could say that whether he came to like the food or not, at least Inuyasha knew his business.

Though assuming the food wasn't up to par would probably be presumptuous of him too. There wasn't a bad scent in this place. Everything smelled probably cooked, thoroughly cleaned, well prepared and the atmosphere's pleasant enough. He propped his fist against his cheek, eyes narrowing upon seeing an oddly sharp grin split Inuyasha's face. That could be for any reason, but why did Sesshomaru feel that expression was meant for him?

"So, you know him?"

 _Right_ , Sesshomaru forgot he had company. He made note to bear that in mind next time he's invited out again and turned to face Naraku, who was staring very openly in the kitchen area as well. That's peculiar.

"Know who?" Sesshomaru eventually responds.

Naraku's red eyes crinkle with delight. "Wow, ya actually spoke back. That's two great successes in a single day." He chuckles, gathering a couple of napkins and folding them along the corners. "I mean the human with the black hair. I saw how you were lookin' at 'im. Something's there."

"Yes, annoyance," Sesshomaru says, bored. "This isn't the time to put your observation skills to use. Same that for work."

"I'm a cop. It's embedded in me to be nosey. So, Inu-Ya-sha, huh? What a name. Makes you wonder who his mom's been hanging around with to give her child a demon name, yeah?"

Sesshomaru's thoughts exactly, but why let Naraku know that? He doesn't say anything else and returns to looking in the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye though, he sees Naraku mirror his gesture and a small frown pinches Sesshomaru's brow.

"What are you looking at?" he says with a hint of steel that surprises even him.

Naraku cocks his eyebrow. "Don't even trip. I'm not after your human. Too squishy," he grumbles and jerks his chin in a different direction. "I'm ganderin' that piece right there."

"Who?" Sesshomaru questions, surprising himself yet again because within the same minute he's say more words to Naraku then he has in the several years they've known each other.

Naraku plucks his fork and aims it towards the kitchen, all sharp smiles and devilment. "That sexy baby right there. Jesus, what a body. . . Whew lemme stop starin' before I wind up married and settled with another expensive child I can't afford." He returns to studying his menu.

Meanwhile, Sesshomaru had drowned out his company's words after the first sentence because the object of his attention was currently wrecking some kind of havoc in his own kitchen.

Inuyasha had grabbed two medium size stainless steel bowls, and poured numerous ingredients into each, stirring furiously then combining the two into a single container. Then he took said container and gave it a hefty shake.

Sesshomaru rested his chin on the back of his knuckles, frowning. Is that dish supposed to be his meal? Seems like a lot of effort to prove he can cook. Narrowing his eyes, Sesshomaru worked up a small dose of his aura into his sclera and pupils to magnify his eyesight. What he could make out at this angle wasn't all that impressive. It looked like nothing more than smashed ground beef, gravy and vegetables.

What was so special about that? He could make that shit at home.

"Look, could you two just pick something already?"

Sesshomaru's ear perks towards the other table.

Tsukuyomaru cackles. "Your dad says you're our slave so behave yourself. I'm gonna make this worth my while."

"Exactly," says Ayame. "I fully intend to make this chump work. And you promised to help me hook-up with my beloved—"

Hiten groans, slapping his hand size notepad against his brow. "Just. Freakin'. Pick. Something!"

Sesshomaru smirks a bit. Seems his son has inherited his insatiable need to bring out the worse in people. That half-breed child isn't that far from his father. Inuyasha's just as easy to provoke. Seeing him get worked up is the first funny thing Sesshomaru's done in a good while.

It's another thirty or so minutes before Inuyasha approaches Sesshomaru's able carrying a large platter overhead with one arm and a kickstand tucked under his armpit.

"I apologize for the wait gentlemen," he grunts, lowering the platter on the stand. "But as the sayin' goes, you can't rush perfection." Clapping his hands together, Inuyasha first grabs the first plate holding Naraku's Pineapple Double Monster, and his appetizer sampler. "By the way, since you're just now receiving this, it's on the house." Inuyasha offers with a wink.

Naraku perks up. "You're alright in my book." He settles in, prepared to dig in. Inuyasha's smile drops like a bad habit upon falling on Sesshomaru.

The demon's taken to wearing his signature evil grin as Inuyasha went to retrieve his large plate and with it, a small gravy bowl.

"And for you sir, here's something nowhere on the menu. Consider it our house special." It's Inuyasha giving the cocky smirk now and it doesn't sit well with Sesshomaru in the slightest. "I'm calling it The Dog Eat Dog World Sampler. Compliments to the chef, who's me." He chuckles, taking the gravy bowl to pour over the meal as he explained the ingredients used to bring out the flavor. "You'll thank me after your taste buds corrode from this overwhelming combination of seasoned ground lamb, pork, and turkey necks. I took the liberty of pulverizing an entire chicken from stem to skull to a fine mush, rolled and patted to the shapes before you.

The gravy's a hearty blend of the animal fats, fish oils, flax seed oil and finely ground egg shells to compliment the dish like a fine wine. And let's not forget the impeccably seasoned spinach, bell pepper, beans, finely rolled in liver strips and stuffed with ground chicken hearts and brown rice. And the biscuits, well, what dog doesn't appreciate a good biscuit?"

The long silence to follow Inuyasha's presentation isn't what he expected. He'd gone into one of his long winded rants without realizing no one was paying him any attention. Inuyasha sighed and shrugged. It happens. Cupping a hand on his hip, he tilts his head expectantly in anticipation as he watched Sesshomaru scoop up a spoonful of his food and bring it to his lips. Inuyasha found himself a little too transfixed on either the spoon entering the demon's mouth or how his lips suckled the tip a little too lovingly. Clearing his throat, he shifts his weight to the other foot, and folds his arms, tapping his finger in the crook of his elbow.

"So? Ya gonna admit defeat or just sit there and pout because you know my cooking's top of the line?" Inuyasha asks, taunting him.

Sesshomaru brought up two more mouthfuls, taking agonizingly slow chews. "I never said you were a bad cook," he says after finishing another bite. "You got skills. This is pretty good."

Inuyasha blinks, stunned. "Uh, well, thanks?" Because how else could he respond except shocked.

"But—"

Inuyasha rolls his eyes heavenward. _Never mind, should've known_.

"—I think I should come again for another sample of your special cooking."

"OK, that's understandable."

"As a regular. Every day, for lunch, maybe dinner too." Sesshomaru upturns sly eyes at Inuyasha. "I kind of like knowing I got you cooking me meals. Makes me feel all special."

Inuyasha fumes. "You're special alright. Right here in the head. This was a one-time deal, pal. Don't come here expecting different treatment from my other customers!"

"But I am a customer, aren't I? And as such a customer should be satisfied per visit. I'm happy now, but it doesn't mean I will be next time. Don't make me tarnish this place's rep all because you can't keep up with to the standards you've set in place."

Inuyasha went slack in the jaw. "You low down dirty dog," he sneered. "I hate you!"

Sesshomaru winks. "So long as you keep these meals comin' you're free to hate me as much as you want, Inu-Ya-Sha."

The color in his face morphed to solid red. Inuyasha knew the heat building up in his cheeks was plain for everyone to see. He wouldn't get angry. He won't get angry. Taking several deep, long breaths, he calms down and gives a professional smile. "Yes sir, we pride ourselves in customer satisfaction. Feel free to come here anytime you want. I promise you'll leave satisfied or. . ." Inuyasha swallows. "Or I'll refund your money."

"Splendid, good to know. Thank you. . ." Inuyasha turns on his heel to walk away. "Inu-Ya-Sha."

The chef halts briefly, fists clenched, and wisely keeps walking. He inwardly congratulates himself on maintaining his composure somewhat. But just wait until he sees this jerk outside of work. Two can play that game.

"Dude, why's your dad such a jerk?"

Tsukuyomaru throws his head back, laughing. "Dog demon remember?"

"So what? You're half dog and only half jerk."

"Could you be any louder? Shut up before he hears you."

"Screw that, he deserves to know. That's his problem. Everybody's too scared to tell him the truth. And the truth is, he's a freakin' butthole."

The dark skin teen twists his lips. "Well, your dad shouldn't be so uptight and easy to tease. It's no wonder my ole man's always gettin' 'im worked up. Just like you. Ya know the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree does it, Hi-ten."

"Whatever."

"Hey!" Ayame snaps in his face. "Are you going to take my order or not Billboard?"

"Sure you want what I had last night? I can squat it out on your plate if you want."

"Don't be disgusting. Now be a good slave and fetch the goods."

"Bite me, witch!"

Tsukuyomaru snatches Hiten by the arm and propels him towards the direction of the kitchen with a slap to his rear. "Bye Hi-ten! That food isn't gonna fix itself."

"Ugh!" Sometimes he hated his life.

* * *

 **TBC: Wow, I'm surprised this took so long to get out. My apologies everyone. Please stay tuned for the next chapter**.


	5. Phase Four

**Author's Rant:** I'm horrible, I know. I've been in a major rut and lost most of my inspiration. I wish like Hell the motivation to update regularly was still there, but it's gradually waning. Please try to understand that I've gone through a lot in the past year and my situations are becoming more stressful. I do appreciate those of you who were kind enough to send me a message to check on me. You're all sweethearts. Please forgive me for my late, spacious updates guys. One of these days I'll find a routine to fall back into. Anyway, enjoy the next chapter and please excuse any mistakes.

* * *

 **Phase Four**

* * *

Hiten adjusts the fire burning beneath his beaker after sprinkling the last ounce of ground mint and sawgrass into the solution, humming curiously as the color stabilizes from a transparent blue to a deep purple. He reaches around for his notepad to record the strange change and goes to inspect his partner's own project.

He isn't at all surprised to find Tsukuyomaru's ingredients still lain out in the exact order they were organized in since their assignment started. The dark toned teen's beaker fluids were as clear as the space next to it, which should have been occupied by that idiot, but of course he's MIA. Sighing irritably, Hiten removes his apron and goes in search of his missing friend. It's fortunate for them that their teacher was so laidback and allowed each station to be governed by a senior. Otherwise, for every time Tsukuyomaru dips out of class, he would've been suspended on grounds of consistent absences.

Hiten makes sure to show his experiment to today's senior before excusing himself for a fake bathroom break. It wasn't like it was a total lie. He knows where Tsukuyomaru's dumb self has disappeared to and it just so happens to be in the same direction as the boy's restroom.

He screws his face into a tight scowl as he marches through the hall. At the end are the three flights of stairs that'd lead him to that idiot and likely the others distracting him from achieving at least a B average in their chemistry class. Sometimes Hiten wonders how the two of them even manage to sustain a strong friendship. They barely have anything in common outside of having psycho fathers. He loves science, movies, reading, hiking and anything considered nerdy. Meanwhile, Tsukuyomaru fits the stereotypical jock who's into hanging out with his bulky friends, video games, skateboarding and sports. The saying is that opposites attract, but who's to say that relates to them.

Hiten reaches the school roof's door and opens the door to a spacious, fenced in flat service. "Seriously," he grumbles, hearing the rowdy cheers and whoops of the class skippers. He walks towards the noise scratching his head.

Hiten stalks around the corner, discovering Tsukuyomaru playing a card game with three of his teammates: Jura their lead quarterback, Menomaru the principal's son and football team's best kicker, and lastly Ryura their wider receiver and probably the only one besides Tsukuyomaru who's been approached by a scout in his freshman year.

"Gon' head and grab that book son," is what Tsukuyomaru says, drawing a card to slap in the center of their circle. "I gotcha covered till next week."

"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout." Ryura snickers ruthlessly, as he flicks a useless card out to match his partners, and smirks saucily at their opponents. "I'm gonna warn ya'll right now to save yourself the humiliation of being set. Otherwise be prepared for a full day's worth of bragging rights."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, say that shit after the game," grunts Jura, and tosses out a card. "Now gimme my fuckin' card."

Hiten folds his arms and rolls his eyes. It's always the same with these guys.

Menomaru suddenly gasps. "What the fuck man! You just threw out of turn!"

"Ah shit, I thought he already went!"

"Nah you fool. Jesus, we can't afford to lose no damn books!"

Tsukuyomaru roared with laughter before leaning between the group to slap a high-five with Ryura. "Rack that shit up baby. As a matter of fact, gon' head and give us the last three." And with that said, he flash his two jokers and ace. "I had this game from the start."

Jura and Menomaru groaned and flung in their last cards. Ryura held out his hand expectantly to collect the loser's wages. "Better luck next time gentlemen. Lunch is definitely on ya'll today."

"Man, fuck this."

"Dude, I'm sorry."

"Shut up apologizing!" Menomaru snaps, smacking Jura on the back of the head. "That's the third time you cost us a game. I ain't got money to waste like that. That my whole week's allowance. My parents are gonna kill me!"

"Then stop comin' to the games knowin' yo' cheap ass can't afford to lose. No one's makin' you empty yo' pockets."

Having heard enough, Hiten loudly clears his throat, effectively startling the foursome silent. "Excuse me gentlemen," he starts approaching, folding his arms. "I hate to be that guy, but I'm gonna need to borrow this fool here," he says, jerking a thumb in Tsukuyomaru's direction. "We've got work to do and if I don't literally drag him back to class, he won't come."

"Awww, isn't that just precious," coos Jura. "We didn't know you had a babysitter, Shawl."

Tsukuyomaru rolls his eyes as he climbed to his feet. "Shut your face, Jura." Then he turns to face his best friend, mimicking his stance by folding his arms and looking just as annoyed. "Sheesh Hiten, what's the rush? You're actin' like we don't have another forty-five minutes of class left."

"Dude for real? That mixture takes half the class to concoct. Do you know how long it takes powdered monarch to properly dissolve after being cooled to room temperature?"

Tsukuyomaru groans. "I am really tryin' to give a damn about this class, but you know my attention span is 'bout as short as your patience."

"Or about as short a drop as your IQ to the damn ground."

"Ouch, tell me how you really feel." Tsukuyomaru sighs, rubbing the back of his neck when Hiten adopts a harder glare. "Fine, fine, fine, let's go."

"Now hold on just a sec."

The pair both turn towards the person requesting their attention. Ryura stands as well, shuffling the deck of cards in his hand. Hiten looks him up and down for interrupting their chat—like really, really gets a good, long, hard look at this guy because Jesus Christ where has this one been hiding?

Hiten knew him as Ryura Macintosh from afar, but this is the very first time he's seen the junior up close. It's amazing what a shorten distance can do in improving a person's appearance. He was wearing a grey, sleeveless Nike pullover, dark blue and smoke grey warmup pants and white low top Air Force Ones. His blue hair was bound high on his head in a thick plait that drapes down his back like braided ice. And those red eyes remind Hiten of blood spilled under sunlight.

Hiten almost, _almost_ licked his dry lips _. 'Damn, he looks good.'_

"Excuse me, I see we have a mutually rude friend." Ryura saunter's over, maneuvering himself directly in the middle of Hiten and Tsukuyomaru's personal circle and held out his hand. "The name's Ryura Macintosh and your name isssss probably gonna sound as sweet as you look . . ."

Hiten visibly jolts in place when his hand is taken and brought up to Ryura's lips.

Ryura winks. "Yum, and taste."

He chuckles nervously, drawing his hand free. He didn't know why, but just looking at this guy gave him a wicked case of butterflies.

"Erm, H-Hiten Saotome."

"Hi-ten," Ryura's deep voice literally drowns Hiten's name in cool delight. "Just as I thought. S' very sexy." He steps forward, crowding Hiten's personal space to the brink of suffocation. "Ya know what, I'd hate for you to be late for class. Why don't we go ahead and give you a proper escort there?" Though he says we, his eyes were so focused purely on Hiten and only Hiten.

Hiten clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "S-sure, OK. Thanks, but you know y-you don't have to."

"Of course I do. A pretty thing like you deserves—"

Then comes the loudest throat clearing in the universe. Tsukuyomaru roughly wedges himself between them, eyeing Ryura down. "I think we're good Ryura. 'Sides, I need to talk to my best friend. _Alone_. I'll catch ya'll at practice."

Ryura lifts his eyebrow, mouth turning downward. "Yeah, you will." Then he turns a sharp smile at Hiten. "Me and you can catch up later, gorgeous."

Hiten's face glows red. "Yeah, you too."

"Oh hey, what's your number?"

"My-my number?"

"Nope!" Tsukuyomaru sharp stamps that negative response in and grabs Hiten's hand, taking long strides towards the stairwell so that his best friend has no chose but to run to keep up. And he kept that pace for most of the trip back to their class.

It's when they reach the door when Hiten finally gains some of his head back and digs his heels into the floor and yanks back. "Do you mind? I'm about to catch a cramp!"

Tsukuyomaru slows his pace, but doesn't let go. He pauses outside the classroom door, seems to ponder something as a blank expression comes over his face, then he pivots on his heel and pulls them towards the boys' bathroom. Hiten, meanwhile is confused by his friend's odd behavior, but thinks better of asking. Normally when Tsukuyomaru is upset he says what's on his mind after they gain some privacy.

When he's sure no one's inside, Tsukuyomaru finally let's go and goes to lean against the sink nearest the window and folds his arms, head bowed and eyes closed. Hiten simply stood where he was dropped off, rubbing over his tender wrist, patiently waiting for an explanation.

After several minutes of silence, Tsukuyomaru finally lifts his head and the glare in his eyes is so bright, Hiten thought a fire could start. But as quickly as it flashes, the sight lessens to a dull glare.

"You need to stay away from him," he grumbles, fingers drumming in the crook of his arm. "Ryura's nothin' but a dog. Probably the biggest one on the team."

Hiten blinks again and again, tilting his head. "How do you know?"

It was Tsukuyomaru's turn to blink stupidly. "Uh, I've known the guy since pre-school. Even back then it was kind of obvious he was destined for Hoeville. I could give a flyin' shit who he deep dicks on a daily basis, but I'll be damn if you're added to his list of conquests. So, just take my advice and seek other alternatives."

Hiten's mouth twists to the side. A part of him wanted to believe that Tsukuyomaru wanted to look out for him and be that great friend. However, given his prior history on things. . . "So, what you're sayin' is, at this point that's all I seem to attract, right?"

"Come again—"

"Hojo, Suikotsu, and even Manten?"

"Whoa, wait," Tsukuyomaru chuckles, cocking an eyebrow. "What are you insinuating?"

"That you have a jealousy complex."

Tsukuyomaru's smile drops like a stone. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's absolutely fine for you to flirt and tease in front of me, but let me do just an ounce of the same and it's all, _'Oh he's a dog, she's a train wreck, he's gonna break your heart'—"_

"Uh, that's because they all were. Anytime someone shows you a little attention you get all hot in the ass—"

Hiten gasped. "Excuse fuckin' me? What the Hell did you say to me, skank?"

"You heard me, tramp!"

"You're impossible. It's always like this with you!"

"I only interfere when you act like a damn virgin caught in a strip joint full of dicks!"

"Because you don't trust me to make my own decisions. You're just fine with me being a lonely nerd. God, you're impossible to deal with sometimes!"

That shut Tsukuyomaru up right away. Blowing out a heavy winded breath, Tsukuyomaru paces from one end of the bathroom to the other. The whole while Hiten crosses his arms, perching his back against one of the sinks to calm his own anger. These kind of arguments were common between the two. They never last long and they ever, ever apologize to one another when it is over. Doing so kind of put a bookmark on the fact that they had a moment where they didn't get along and remember that fact sucked.

"Just stay away from Ryura, cool?" Tsukuyomaru says, coming to stand in front of his friend. He stoops his head so low, the tip of his nose brushes over Hiten's. "If I'm cockblockin' ya, it's only because I care. I'm not tryin' to see ya get hurt and I sure as shit can't afford a suspension on my record."

Hiten averts his eyes away. Suddenly his stomach's performing somersaults and every acrobatic trick. "Whatever," he breathes and shimmies his way past the tiny space between Tsukuyomaru and the sink. After composing himself to some semblance of control and being sure his heart's calmed down some, he says, "So what's next on our agenda with our dads?"

With a new objective to focus on, Tsukuyomaru's all too eager for a change in topic. "Glad you asked. I already have an idea in mind." He walks over to loop his hefty arm around Hiten neck and hugs him to his side. "Do you and your dad ever go to the gym?"

Hiten mocks a gag while tugging down on Tsukuyomaru's arm. "Every Saturday afternoon we go to the downtown dojo. It doubles as a gym and a dojo."

"Ohhhh snap, this just got super interestin'. Me and Dad always go to the gym together. I already know how I want this to play out."

"How?"

Tsukuyomaru grins like a shark. "My dad's insanely competitive."

"So is anyone else with a nut sack. Your point?"

"Ah, remember you're still getting to know my old man." Tsukuyomaru taps his chin in thought, then snaps his fingers. "What's your dad into? Weight training, cardio?"

"Sparring."

"Ohhh shit, that's even better!"

Hiten shakes his head. "Oh no it's not bro, trust me. You've never seen my father in action."

"Pfft, a human ain't gonna take down my dad. That's good wishful thinkin' though."

"You've never seen my dad in a match dude. He waxes the floor with demons like it's a part time job. _Full blooded demons._ He knocked the glorified shit out of some ox demon dude with one blow to the jaw. They had to carry him outta there on two stretchers."

Tsukuyomaru shrugs, unimpressed. "My dad cleared out a whole trap house with a glare and one bullet."

Hiten lifts an eyebrow. ". . . Ya know what, they have institutions for people like your dad."

"Shut up and help me plan this. Everything's gotta be set just right."

Hiten sighs before discreetly making a cross sign over his chest. "Well, here's to hoping Mr. Shawl comes out of this intact."

* * *

Takemuyo's Fitness Dojo. If there were ever such a place Inuyasha could call his own personal slice of heaven, it was this beautiful establishment here. There's nowhere else in the entire country he would rather be then this place. Aside from his beloved Tessaiga of course; that place has a special place in his heart that can never be replaced.

However, if there were any other places to compete against the Tessaiga for his heart, it would assuredly be the Fitness Dojo. A great open span of arenas were arranged in this section of the business where fighters of all varieties came to test their limits, perfect their skill and experiment on the latest techniques. And it's always done in good sport.

Fuck that. Inuyasha wasn't about showing good sportsmanship. He relished the idea of whooping anyone's ass who stepped into his ring. And today was no exception. He was coming with the thunder today.

Every spare weekend he had, he utilized the chance to reserve Ring 12 in the center of the room because it was the only place where even those who came to the gym could get an eyeful of his matches. His personal score sat on the front of his ring, bright and boldly written to advertise to any and all challengers to see.

A flawless score of 157 to 0. He set the record for single best winning streaks last week after surpassing the dojo's owner and earning his name on the wall. Inuyasha has every intention of maintaining his title today too. The room's teeming with potential victims and he's all too eager to get started.

"Um, Dad, I really don't think today is the day to bust skulls."

Inuyasha chuckles as he completes tightening the cotton hand-wraps around his palm. "You say that every time we come here, kid."

"Maybe because I don't wanna carry you home in a body bag." Hiten comes to the edge of the ring, crossing his arms over the ring's platform. "Don't you get tired of the mindless violence? What if someone breaks your hand or arm? Then how are you gonna run the Tessaiga? Need I remind you that I'm a teenage boy and I have no intentions of getting a part-time job to support your handicapped corpse!"

"Someday son, you're gonna learn to have fate in your ole man one." After securing his hair in a thick braid, Inuyasha began working on his full body stretches. "But you're more uptight than usual. What's got you so worked up?"

Hiten pouts. "I take serious offense to being called uptight from someone who wears the title like a championship belt." The teen hooks his finger through the thick green sash around his karategi, anxiously rocking back and forth on the ball of his heels. "I don't think there's anything wrong with being overly cautious. One of us has to be the responsible adult here!"

Inuyasha finishes a rep of twenty perfect quad and thigh stretches before working his way up to his triceps, biceps and shoulders. "You should be stretching. I don't plan to take it easy on you today."

"And that's another thing Dad!" Hiten grabs ahold of the ropes and hauls himself into the ring. "Why do you gotta make me do this stuff? What kind of parent encourages their kid to use fist over words?"

"You have to learn to protect yourself kiddo. You need help with the groin stretch?"

Hiten sighs. "Sure." He sits on the floor, aligns his feet and leans forward. Inuyasha positions himself behind him, pressing his palms into Hiten's shoulders and gently coaxes him forward. "I really, really, really think there are more productive activities we can indulge in today." He grunts before spreading his legs and signaling for his dad to repeat the gesture.

Inuyasha laughs a little. "Duly noted."

"And ignored."

"Hey are you Inuyasha Saotome?"

Hiten and Inuyasha simultaneously glance up towards the source of the rugged voice and finds a thickly muscular bear demon approaching the area with two other full blooded demons in tow. The guy looks like his body is made entirely of illegal steroids and vitamins.

Inuyasha rights himself, stepping around to meet the challenger. "Yeah, what's up?"

The man pounds a large fist into his meaty chest. "I'm gonna be your first and last opponent, Dominic Roshi. I haul from a long line of—"

"Cool, get on up here." Inuyasha beckons the man up with a quick wave of his hand, already going toward the center of the ring.

Inuyasha's bland enthusiasm is mildly unsettling for the newcomer. "Oh, um, well, alright then." The bear demon blinks at his comrades, shrugs then steps up the ramp and dips beneath the ropes.

Hiten rolls his eyes, clapping a hand over his face. "Dude, you're about to be the first in a long line of beat downs."

The bear demon pauses. "What was that, runt?"

"I said if you value your manhood, you better get outta this ring while it's still intact!"

The adult bear demon snorts, flicking his wrist at the boy. "Don't you have homework to do? Run along while the men get to work."

"Whatever dude. It's your funeral." With that said, Hiten clamores down the ramp leaning to the audience section and grabs the first chair facing his father's ring. Hiten knows he's probably overreacting about this idea, but Tsukuyomaru doesn't know Inuyasha Saotome. A person's bloodline has absolutely nothing to do with them being a good warrior these days. The human has wrecked more lives and damaged enough self-esteems to make any therapist rich from the aftermath.

Hiten props his chin in the spread of his hands and dully studies over the bear demon and his father taking their respective positions before each other. The bear demon roars and smacks his fists together, the sound explosive and impressive to surrounding onlookers. Except Hiten. To him the big oaf looked like he was just tenderizing his own flesh.

The bear, predictably takes the first strike, thrusting his large fist at top speed. Inuyasha's reaction is quick and precise. Stretching forward with both hands, Inuyasha seizes the demon's wrist, braced his right foot flat and twisted his entire body around—carrying the large brute overhead head and flat on his back, slamming with an atomic force.

"Oh my God!" someone screamed in the background.

Hiten just blew out, shaking his head. "This oughta be one for the record books," he grumbles, as his father politely eased the unconscious demon towards the edge of the ring for his friends to retrieve.

"Make sure you have an aspirin waiting for him when he wakes up," Inuyasha quietly advised to them. "It'll lessen the pain after a few minutes."

The crew nod gratefully and hurriedly carry their friend to the recovery chamber.

Inuyasha took a deep breath, flexed his arms, then turned to face the crowd. "Who's next?"

And from there on, another four opponents took to the ring, thinking for some reason the outcome would be different for them. Each one meant a very similar fate from the last, each either getting slammed or tossed from the arena with minimum effort. Hiten checks the wall clock for the third time, wishing just once that it would slow down, but faith isn't so kind. No sooner had the clock chimed one o'clock, Hiten turns his head around toward the dojo's entrance and sees Tsukuyomaru entering wearing a purple spandex t-shirt and black Nike sweatpants.

And not far behind him is his father carry a gym bag, dressed in a solid white sleeveless body armor spandex shirt and smoke grey jersey shorts. No sooner does he step through the rotating glass door, Inuyasha is flipping his fifth opponent on his backside, and wringing his right arm behind his back.

"Submit!" Inuyasha orders.

The challenger snarls, but reluctantly slams his left hand flat on the arena floor, signaling his submission. Inuyasha immediately stands, offering his hand to the guy and hauls him up.

"Good job man. Keep working at it."

"Thanks Mr. Inuyasha. I gotta say, I thought I would stay a chance this round . . ."

Hiten wasn't sure where it came from, but a sub-zero chill suddenly gripped at his insides. He shivers and glances behind him again to find Mr. Shawl smirking. One of the most diabolical, evil smiles he'd ever seen on a person.

Hiten looks at his father, blissfully unaware of the approaching threat, then at Mr. Shawl, the twinkle in his gold eyes full of cruel intent. Hiten groans, throwing an arm over his eyes and sinks low in his seat. He knew this was a rotten idea. . . This is not going to end well.

* * *

Well, well, well, Christmas has certainly come early.

Sesshomaru loosely hands over his and Tsukuyomaru's gym bag, and wordlessly directs his son to the men's changing room while he makes his way toward the dojo area.

Tsukuyomaru didn't think this would work so fast and didn't think he could move as quick either because he was sprinting to the men's changing room and dumping their stuff in a locker and running out the door before he could blink. By the time he bypassed the receptionist's desk, his father had reached the back of the growing crowd and was maneuvering his way through.

A jolt of warm giddiness erupted up and down Tsukuyomaru's body. He can't remember the last time he'd seen his father so excited and it was so plainly visible on his face! This has to be one of the best ideas they've ever come up with.

The resounding slam echoes through the Fitness Center like a siren. It's as if fate wanted that to be the first thing Sesshomaru notices when he entered the business because he has eyes for nothing else, but that cocky, arrogant chef as he laid waste to that lightweight challenger.

 _Inu-ya-sha._

Sesshomaru reaches the edge of the ring, narrowing his eyes, intently focus on Inuyasha as he helped the kid up to his feet. The way he yanks him forward without a grunt or loss of breath spoke high of his strength. There's some muscle underneath that chef's suit for sure and if Sesshomaru hadn't been entirely sure, the open gap in Inuyasha's karategi provided plenty of evidence. He is toned, pectorals defined and glossy from a light film of sweat coating his tan skin.

He hears a soft snigger behind his head. "Play nice, Dad."

Sesshomaru shifts his gaze to the right where his son comes forward, watching as adamantly as the rest of the audience.

"I know that look," Tsukuyomaru goes on to say, barely able to hide his amusement. "That's the same face you made when you caught the ice cream man at McDonald's."

"He was stealing a cookie," Sesshomaru coolly explains. "And he tripped."

"Into your fist and the emergency room?" Tsukuyomaru playfully rolls his eyes, waving his hand. "Just don't do the same here. Not that I think you could anyway."

"Come again?"

"I mean it's nothing for real. I just overheard Hiten telling a couple of our classmates how Mr. Saotome's one of the best fighters here. He hasn't loss a single match since he registered."

Sesshomaru's smirk becomes dangerous. "Is that so?"

"Yep, but anyway, let's go get our reps in. I still gotta mow the lawn and wash the car when we get home." Not that Tsukuyomaru was heading towards the gym section anyway. He'd spotted Hiten while walking up to his father's side and made a beeline for that spot there since he knew his father had suddenly developed tunnel vision. As far as he was concerned, nothing existed outside of Inuyasha Saotome.

' _So, he hasn't lost a match? Interesting.'_ Sesshomaru's mind practically purred at the idea of rattling this human's spirit. Such a prospect was far too tempting to pass up. Any opportunity to stir the pot as they say.

* * *

When Inuyasha finished helping the young man out of the ring, he wiped his hand over his brow before readjusting his sash. He shook off any tightness in his shoulders and turned to scan the crowd.

"Next up!" He called out.

Not surprising, no one stepped forward. This was the usual reaction after he completed his fifth round, which was very disappointing. So far he's yet to meet a person who could meet him blow for blow or had his endurance. A pity. He has so much energy to burn off and it's so boring taking it out on the punching bags.

Inuyasha smirks to himself, shaking his head sympathetically. He couldn't blame a single one of them, and wouldn't goat them on. It wasn't really honorable. But there was one who he held plenty of authority over and the brat was getting rusty anyway.

"Alright Hiten!" Inuyasha loudly announced, drawing even more attention towards their ring. He leans over the top rope, gesturing as he held the rope down, "Front and center, squirt. You need work . . ." So, his reaction wasn't exactly immediate as it should have been when Inuyasha spotted that dark skinned kid his son had a crush on. Inuyasha reserved his concentration on quickly finding the kid's obnoxious father because as of late, wherever this kid was, the older Shawl wasn't too far behind.

"I'll take you on."

Warning bells screamed in Inuyasha's brain at that deep, quiet voice breezing the back of his ear. Inuyasha had one breathless moment to comprehend the situation he was in. The one to challenger him managed to creep into the ring and cross the distance to reach him silent as an owl in mid-flight. And it would be Shawl of all people.

Inuyasha serenely held firm to his composure and stayed facing forward. "This'll be interesting," he murmurs. "Alrighty, Shawl, I already see where this is gonna go. No sense in trying to convince you that you're making a grand mistake by coming up here."

"I'll call you on that one, _Inu-ya-sha_."

"Real mature, Dog Man; harping on my name when I still don't know yours."

Inuyasha sense him getting close and his intuition proved correct when his whole backside became slightly warmed.

"You're free to wager for it."

Inuyasha's brow furrowed. "For your first name? Intriguing proposition, but terribly light." He finally turns to face Shawl, keeping the same short distance between them. Up close, it's horrible how much taller the bastard is, but Inuyasha doesn't back down. "Add something else to sweeten the deal."

Shawl places his hands on his hips, dipping his head lower to Inuyasha's height. "Such as? What do you want?"

"Peace of mind." Inuyasha frowns, hard. "If I win, I get your name and I want you to leave me the Hell alone. If you happen to see me, go in the other direction. Don't breathe my air, don't cross my path, cut all ties and methods of communication by any means necessary."

"Pfft, done." Shawl shrugs, eyes low and amused. "Though I admit it'll be a shame to waste such entertainment. I enjoy fuckin' with you."

Inuyasha smirks evilly. "Now your turn."

Shawl makes show of rubbing his chin in thought, then snaps his fingers and points his finger in Inuyasha's face. "If I win, I want free meals on weekends at your restaurant."

"Fuck you, no dice."

"That's my wager." Sesshomaru chuckles. "Scared you'll lose?"

"In your dreams," snorts Inuyasha. "I just don't wanna give you the satisfaction of eating my good cooking every day."

"So, you sayin' you doubt your own skills." Sesshomaru tucked a loose strand of silver hair behind his ear. "I mean, just say you submit and we'll call it even. You can walk away with your tail between your legs and half your dignity since the other half's been demolished."

Inuyasha's eye twitched—he cracked his knuckles. "You're on." He snaps his wrist towards his son. "Ring the goddamn bell!"

Hiten stumbles out of his chair to rush over and pop the bell. The younger Shawl throws his head back and cackled. "It's on now baby!"

"The rules are simple—" Inuyasha starts just to be cut off.

"First one down on a ten count loses." Shawl puts some distance between them, glancing over his shoulder. "Right?"

Inuyasha rolls his neck from side to side. "Whatever floats your boat, sport." Inuyasha stiffens his upper back, then takes a hunkered stance, fists at the ready. "Try not to blink, it'll be over before you know it."

Shawl chuckles, standing tall. "We'll see." But stand is all he does. He doesn't take a fighter's pose or put up a guard.

Inuyasha frowns. "What are you doing? Defend yourself!"

"I will when you give me a reason to."

"Suit yourself." If he wants to leave himself open, who was Inuyasha but a teacher to the ignorant?

Inuyasha raised his fists eye level, braced his weight on his left foot, then swung a fast right hook. This one always worked in delivering an unsuspecting knockout since most full blood demons underestimate the strength behind Inuyasha's hits. As expected of the arrogant bastard, Sesshomaru doesn't budge an inch and takes the full blunt of the hit square on the cheek.

Inuyasha smirks. . . then frowned. The bastard stays still, expression remote, almost bored. Inuyasha draws back, stunned, switching his gaze between his fist and Sesshomaru's uninjured face.

A delayed pain suddenly shoots through his fist, an agony like fire pulsing beneath the skin of his knuckles. He wrings his fist and inspect it to find his knuckles reddened.

"That's cute," Sesshomaru muses as he raises his hand to graze his cheek. "I felt a tingle behind that one."

OK, so he's tougher than the average bear. No biggie. Inuyasha shakes it off and went into another fighter's stance. "Alright, so I might have to actually try this go round."

"Then I'll make an attempt to impress you." Sesshomaru shifts his weight back on his right foot, rising a jutted palm out. "After gauging your strength, I guesstimate a five-minute bout."

"Presumptuous of you."

"Not at all. I'm actually being courteous. You're _too_ weak to last that long against me."

' _Oh, he's so fucking dead, he doesn't even know it.'_ Inuyasha inhales and exhales slowly, cracks his neck and retakes a different fighter's pose. "Let's sweeten the wager."

Sesshomaru smirks. "I'm game."

"Free meals anytime."

A shadow passes across Sesshomaru's eyes that grows intensity. His smile becomes lethal. "Free meals anytime?" he repeats. "Make sure you're willing to pay up when this is over."

Inuyasha chuckles deviously. "So sure you're win?"

"I'm more than positive, lil man."

"Gah!" comes the disgruntled noise from the sidelines. "Enough with the talkin'," snaps Tsukuyomaru. "Fight already, I got lunch money wagerin' on this!"

"Same here," adds Hiten, kicking the side of the ring. "They invented telephones for conversations, ya know!"

"Shut up," Inuyasha sharply directs at both the boys. "How the Hell are y'all gonna bet money you ain't even got?!"

"Exactly," snorts Sesshomaru. "This'll probably be the only time I agree with you, but they're right. We've made our points. Let's end this."

"Fine with me." Inuyasha lowers his torso, presses into his heels, and shoots forward, striking out with his right fist.

Sesshomaru spins, swings out his wrist and cross it down over Inuyasha's fist, slamming it to the floor. He takes advantage of their closeness to grab Inuyasha's collar and jerks, snatching the human off balance. Inuyasha reflexively brings his left arm up to block the coming punch and claps his hand over Sesshomaru's and wrestles his grasp off.

The pair separate, Inuyasha a little more off guard then he cares to admit.

"You look flustered," taunts Sesshomaru.

"Hardly." Oh, he was definitely a tad more concerned he cares to admit.

Sesshomaru rushes forward, and dips low, sweeping his foot under. Inuyasha leaps—Sesshomaru recovers, crossing his arm straight at him. Inuyasha takes the hit by way of his arm and feels the recoil snake through to his bone. He lands against the ropes as the aftershock propels him to the edge.

"Whoa," he hears Hiten whisper in awe.

Inuyasha grimaces, realizing that he may have bitten off more than he can chew this time. But a deal is a deal. He made a bet and he's man enough to go through with it until the end. . . even if he just might lose after all.

* * *

 **TBC: From here on, there's going to be plenty of Inuyasha and Sesshomaru.**


	6. Phase Four: Rocky Success

**Phase Four: Rocky Success**

* * *

 **Author's Rant: Finally! Two updates for two different stories. Pleasssse let this inspiration stick around. Enjoy the update and please excuse any mistakes guys. I won't have time to proofread this before work.**

* * *

Hiten sinks low in his chair, profoundly shocked silent. Never, ever, in the history of the years he and his father have attended this gym/dojo has anyone ever managed to keep stride with him. His father has kept up with the best and while there were times where the situation seemed so dire, Inuyasha would manage to come out on top and prove that species means nothing.

But here, right here, right now, Hiten isn't as confident as he'd once been. Tsukuyomaru's father has matched Inuyasha punch per punch, kick for kick and his techniques are weird. He doesn't dodge and strike in the traditional sense of a martial artist. There's a sharp swiftness, unmatched elegance and a chilling calculative pitch to his movements. For every chance Mr. Shawl gets to lay out Inuyasha, he noticeably pulls his punch, but just in the instant to let Inuyasha realize how narrowly he comes close to having been reduced to a heap of dead weight.

Tsukuyomaru loudly yawns next to Hiten and exaggerates being unentertained. "This is 'bout as fun as watching paint dry. I thought you said your old man could hang."

Hiten's head would be whipping around to snap, but Mr. Shawl has worked Inuyasha to the ropes. "We're barely into the match, jerk. My dad is gonna show yours exactly what fightin' is all about!"

"When? Before or after mine uses that head for mopping up his blood? Face facts, Hit. Your ole man is all washed up."

"Bet?"

Tsukuyomaru's entire demeanor springs up, all smiles and devious intent. "I was waiting for you to offer. Check it, if my dad wins, you gotta do my homework and cook for me for a solid month."

"Cool, and if my dad wins, you gotta hook me up with Ryura, drive me to school and bring lunch for a whole thirty days."

"Whoa, why do you get three conditions?"

"Dude, you have me working twice as much for school. I barely like going there now!"

"Fine, fine. We got a deal?" Tsukuyomaru holds out his hand.

Hiten snaps it up in a firm handshake. "Bet."

With the deal solidified, the two teens return to putting their focus into the fight with renewed vigor and an agenda hidden within an agenda. Hiten keeps his fingers crossed that his father comes out on top because there'll be no way he can keep up with the demands of his chores, homework, Tsukuyomaru's homework and cooking for the idiot.

"C'mon Dad. Don't let me down. . ."

* * *

Far from it be for Sesshomaru to admit he's mildly impressed.

Here he's sustained blows from many humans who thought themselves equal to a demon's strength and none came close to wringing a sting. But with Inuyasha's attacks, there are lingering pulses of pain per strike.

Dare he believe he may have to actually try? Inuyasha's hits aren't as rendering as say, one of Sesshomaru's weakest punches, but if developed correctly, Inuyasha could easily cause a cramp or summon some other bodily annoyance Sesshomaru hardly feels like dealing with.

He decides for a different approach. Allow Inuyasha to set the pace, see where his rhythm lies and shift into the flow from there. Then Sesshomaru can properly analyze how best to end this farce of a match.

Sesshomaru stretches his stance, locks his arms midway between his chest and face and smirks around the block. It's an obvious taunt to lure the human inside for close combat. Inuyasha's eyes harden like holy blue agates as he steps forward and kicks off into a fast charge forward. He lowers his head, keeps his posture slightly bent and meets Sesshomaru's block with a series of open palm barrages.

Blow for blow, each seemed to increase in applied force. Sesshomaru digs his back heel into the ground to keep from being repulsed. Then came two palm assaults where one was severely weak and the one following up contained enough of an impact to rattle Sesshomaru's stance. Just as he thinks he's figured out how much endurance Inuyasha has left, the human quickly dips low and sweeps out his foot.

Sesshomaru leaves his foot firm and lets it collide with his ankle. He leans forward with an outstretched hand aiming for Inuyasha's shoulder and latches on tight. He keeps the momentum going and rests the other hand dead into Inuyasha's chest, fully prepared to shove the human on his back and knock the wind from his lungs.

"Nice try!" Somehow, in a bizarre body twist, Inuyasha manages to lift himself and Sesshomaru completely off the floor. Inuyasha clutches his hands around Sesshomaru's right wrist and twists it hard. Inuyasha propels himself on his side and takes Sesshomaru's entire body with him.

The tussling ends with Inuyasha having fastened Sesshomaru in a flawless armlock. Sesshomaru lays on his back, a little stunned, and smirks. "You better not tell me this is your best."

"Like what you've done so far is worth braggin' about?" Inuyasha tightens his grip and reclines with his hips rising. "You either submit or have your arm broken."

"Ah, it's that easy, huh?"

Inuyasha chuckles saucily. "I've got you on your back, big guy, so you tell me."

"You think you got something goin' with this? That's cute."

Sesshomaru's arm started to curl inward. Despite Inuyasha's death grip, his hold was being broken right before his eyes as the demon easily brought him up right and straight into a fist. Inuyasha sailed across the floor and hurriedly rolled up to his feet. He rubs his face, feeling a knot swell just beneath his eye.

In the next second, Sesshomaru charges forward, arms crossed in an X and slams into Inuyasha's chest, grabbing the front of his karategi. "What will you do now?"

Inuyasha smirks before rearing his head back and throwing it straight into Sesshomaru's nose. That'd been unexpected, and it did sting quite a bit. Sesshomaru doesn't loose his grip though. He lifts with minimum effort, swings Inuyasha overhead and brings him down on his stomach, stunning him from head to toe.

Sesshomaru notes Inuyasha's son surging to his feet in a panic and Tsukuyomaru having to snatch him back down in his seat.

"Son—son of a bitch," Inuyasha hoarsely coughs from the floor. "Just you wait until I get off this floor."

Sesshomaru rolls his eyes and lightly places his foot in the middle of Inuyasha's back and presses down. "I'm above embarrassing a father in front of his son, but if you insist on continuing this one-sided fight, I'm more than willing to go on too."

"You're gonna have to knock me out before I submit."

Sesshomaru watches with a hidden smirk as Inuyasha helplessly struggles against the weight baring unfairly down on him. "I'd almost call your act admirable if you didn't look so pathetic underfoot—"

Inuyasha collapses to the floor. Sesshomaru's smirk comes to fruition, victorious. That'd been easier than anticipated. Disappointingly so. He'd wanted more.

"Hey!"

Sesshomaru glances over his shoulder. The half breed boy, Hiten, is grabbing at the ropes. "Can I help you?"

Tsukuyomaru struggles to keep a bear hug on his thrashing friend. "C'mon, Hiten, chill out!"

"Get. The. Hell. Off. My father!" Hiten punches and kicks and shoves at Tsukuyomaru's face to be free. "You already won. This is overkill. What exactly are you tryin' to prove?"

Sesshomaru folds his arms. "He chose to take me on knowing full well he didn't stand a chance. If anyone's at fault, blame him."

"Dad, he's right, you've done enough." Tsukuyomaru calmly drags Hiten back against his chest. "Just throw him outta the ring already."

Sesshomaru sucks his teeth, shaking his head. "Fine." He boringly reaches down and grabs Inuyasha by the scruff of his karategi and holds him aloof. "Just to be clear, you would rather I toss him out and not allow him the opportunity to decide for himself?"

Hiten shoves away from Tsukuyomaru's hold and climbs into the ring. "He can't decide on anything you jerk!" Hiten rushes to carefully extract his father from Sesshomaru's grasp and lowers him to the floor. "See? He's comatose."

Sesshomaru lifts an eyebrow. "That can't be from our match."

"No, he's been at it for hours prior to you and Tsukuyomaru comin' here."

"How many matches? Five, ten?"

Hiten shoots him an unfriendly look. "Try fifty. You make fifty-one."

Tsukuyomaru works his way onto the ring, eyes wide at the information. "Dang, fifty?" he looks at his father, then back at the worn-down human. "What was he thinkin', takin' on a full-blooded demon? No way he would have won!"

"Hmm," Sesshomaru hadn't known that fun fact.

"Your dad's not normal!" Hiten bites off.

"Neither is yours for lasting as long as he did!" Tsukuyomaru shoots back.

"I'm inclined to agree," Sesshomaru quietly speaks up and kneels next to Hiten's side. He reaches out and cups Inuyasha's arms and legs in his palms and eases his weight into his arms and stands. He shifts until Inuyasha's nestled against his chest and starts for the stairs leading out of the ring.

"Uh, you don't have to do that," Hiten dumbly informs. He stands and follows. "I can take him home."

Sesshomaru cuts his eyes at the younger Saotome. "If you recollect, your father and I had an agreement and I fully intend to be compensated."

"Today? How? Where?"

"Do you live far?"

Hiten blanches. "Look, Mr. Shawl, I know you're a cop and all, but my dad's a private man. He wouldn't let Jesus in without proper ID and a full background check."

"Fine, we'll do this at my home then."

"What?!"

Tsukuyomaru pumps his fist in the air. "Yes! Free lunch!"

Sesshomaru looks at his son. "You're still expected to finish your chores."

"I can do that, but don't expect me to be rude, Dad. I gotta maintain my reputable gentleman-like disposition after all."

"Ha, reputable my butt," taunts Hiten. "You're as roguish as they come!"

The pair of teens argue throughout the short trip through the gym. Sesshomaru's thankful they're distracted from the many onlookers. Last thing he needs is to continue babysit Inuyasha's son's fragile attitude. "Young Saotome."

Hiten looks at Sesshomaru hard. "My name's Hiten, Mr. Shawl."

Sesshomaru looks the kid over with a glint likely resembling his father's judging from the way he cowers. "Are you old enough to drive?"

"Y-yes sir."

"Follow behind me." They reach Sesshomaru's car. He situates Inuyasha in the passenger's side and clicks on the seatbelt. "Tsukuyomaru ride with 'im."

"Will do!" Tsukuyomaru hurries around to join Hiten in Inuyasha's car.

Sesshomaru hops in his impala and turns on the engine. He checks his rearview to make sure the younger Saotome is behind him before pulling out of the parking lot. Without the bustle of the two teens, Sesshomaru's mind is less crowded and able to gauge just what in the Hell is processing. So, he engaged in a wager fight with a human who went through fifty solid fights and still attempted to take on Sesshomaru.

So, if this wasn't him at his max, just what in the Hell had Sesshomaru been dealing with then?

Sesshomaru spies the slight discoloring on his wrist where Inuyasha's palm connected and frowns.

He's bruising. Interesting. He hasn't bruised in months. Last time had been a raid in a house full of drug dealing lizard demons and a couple of them were able to slap his ribs with their tails. But that's neither here nor there. Inuyasha was able to bruises him at a quarter or less of his strength.

Color Sesshomaru fully impressed then. Here he'd thought the human was all bluster and here is able to bruise him.

But still, a bet is a bet and when the fool wakes up, he expects to be rewarded for his victory.

* * *

"Dude, I seriously hate your dad!"

"Oh, lighten up, damn, he wasn't gonna hurt Mr. Saotome."

"He's a real deal case. Nobody should be that sadistic. He preys on the helpless and devours the weak!"

Tsukuyomaru covers his mouth to quell a snicker and clears his throat. "Yeah, well, your dad shouldn't have tried to pass himself off as some kind of Mega Man. Now he knows his place."

Hiten's grip squeezes the steering wheel just as his jaw steels. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Humans are inferior to demons, duh." Tsukuyomaru shrugs and reclines in his chair. "It's the way of nature dude. They're nothing like us."

The anger builds like geyser. Hiten gnaws so hard on his bottom lip it colors red and threatens to bleed. "That's how you feel, huh?"

"No, that's fact. And—Oh shit, Hiten?" Tsukuyomaru cranks his chair upright and reaches out to touch Hiten's shoulder. "Hey, dude, are you cryin'?"

Hiten jerks the hand off him and jerkily wipes at his face. Fuck, he hadn't meant to start tearing up, especially in front of his best friend. "Fuck you."

"What do you mean, fuck me? What'd I say?"

Hiten snaps his head over and growls, "I'm half human, dumb ass. And for your information, my dad is more of a man than most full-blooded demons. He's bent over backwards to get to where he is today despite being ridiculed the entire way just for being a damn human!"

Tsukuyomaru holds up his hands. "Hey, chillax, bro, it's not like we can change what society thinks."

"Yeah, but I didn't expect my own best friend to be just as ignorant and misinformed!"

"Hiten. . ."

"Just leave me alone." Hiten sags in his seat and feels every muscle in his body deflate. "I dunno why I figured you'd be different. You sound as bad as your dad."

"Oh yeah? Is that what you think?"

"Yeah, yeah it is."

They pull up to a red light. Tsukuyomaru takes the chance to force Hiten to look at him by snatching him by the shoulder and leaning into his face. "Lemme give you a quick play by play on what life's like being the minority in a human dominated world. Because we're ' _unnaturally gifted'_ " he air quotes "we are looked down on and mistreated left and right. You know how much heat I catch on the team all because they accuse me of using my demon speed and strength to get by? My dad was fired three different times before he finally landed a job at the police station because the lousy humans in the past thought he was misusing his demon powers to unjustly surpass his human counterparts!" Tsukuyomaru huffs and sits back in his chair, arms folded tight. "So, excuse me if I can't exactly see where you're comin' from when you're part minority and part majority. You stand a chance in fitting in no matter what."

Hiten scoffs. "Right because demons are suddenly welcoming half-breeds into society. Stop trying to pass my situation off as any less tragic then yours."

"I didn't know this was a contest for who has the more fucked up existence."

"Whatever, dumbass."

"Go to Hell, bitch."

Hiten seethes. "Ya mama, skank."

Tsukuyomaru narrows his eyes, claws digging into his arms. "Kiss my ass, Hiten."

"Tsk, like I'd give you the satisfaction."

"Can't expect much from a virgin anyway."

"Better that then a train wreck hoe."

Tsukuyomaru flinches but doesn't add more to the argument. He tucks into his side of the car and neither say anything else the rest of the way. It's better than way. Hiten isn't sure he can stomach saying anything else to his best friend without risking their friendship.

Besides, once his dad wakes up, all Hell might break loose.

* * *

Inuyasha is rocked out of his dreams by a sharp head pain and a bad taste in his mouth.

He gags and presses the heel of his palm into his forehead. The rush of sitting up causes his brain to toss and his mind to sway so severely, he just knows his breakfast will redesign the walls.

Sunlight spills directly in his eyes and he turns to ease the burning.

Almost immediately, something doesn't feel right. He doesn't recognize the feel of whatever he's laying on, nor the smell. It isn't of jasmine or lavender, the harmonic smells he keeps religiously scented in his home for a tranquil environment. Being of sound mind keeps him in good form. All he smells is a distinctive earthy odor relative to demons and a faint lemony Pine Sol.

Inuyasha lifts himself off his stomach, and keeps his hand pressed into—what is this? Oh, a leather couch. He wipes at his mouth, lips wrinkling when he felt crusted saliva and sighs. The events from before drift in and out like a mist, but he's gathered enough of the details to gather that he got his ass handed to him on a silver platter.

That much he can deduce, but where is he? This doesn't look like his den. The layout's unfamiliar. Where is Hiten?

"Hit—" Inuyasha clears his throat after a soft cough and tries again. "Hiten!"

Footsteps can be heard approaching from one end of the semi-dark room. A head of bright white hair pops up and then a dark tan face comes with it. "What's up, Mr. Saotome. How ya feelin'?"

Inuyasha blinks stupidly at, what's this kid's name? Tsuku-Tsukimiko—Tsukuyo-some shit. "Where's my son?"

"Oh, he and my dad left to pick up some groceries." Tsukuyomaru walks into the bedroom with a cup of water and a napkin. He flicks a light switch with his elbow and comes further in. "They'll be back in a minute. Here, in case you have a headache."

Inuyasha eyeballs the water and napkin carefully. "What's in the napkin?"

Tsukuyomaru smiles. "Aspirin and Advil. I didn't know which you'd prefer."

Inuyasha waves it away. "Nah, I don't take over-the-counter junk."

"Oh, only the name brand stuff, huh? I think my dad might have—"

"No, kid, I'm—never mind. Where am I?"

"We're at my house, Mr. Saotome."

Inuyasha blinks, shakes his head and pats his head. "We're where now?"

"Our house." Tsukuyomaru settles alongside Inuyasha. "My dad wasn't comfortable with you headin' home alone with Hiten. He said ya'll can stay here until your pains wears off."

"How gracious of him," Inuyasha sarcastically grumbles, rolling his eyes and instantly regrets it. Even that hurt something wicked. He sighs and leans into the seat's back cushion.

How much of a let down must it have been for Hiten to watch his father get annulated like that? Inuyasha can't help feeling disappointed in himself. He'd thought Shawl would be another trash-talking-run-of-the-mill demon. How wrong he really was. That guy toyed around with Inuyasha like a rag doll and served him up pretty good. Inuyasha can't remember the last time his face got popped like this.

He touches at the swelling developing and sighs. This'll be a fun story to relay to the others when he gets back to work.

"So . . . um."

Inuyasha looks out the corner of his eye to see the Shawl kid drumming his fingers against his thigh, shifting awkwardly and scratching behind his head.

"Do you, uh, need anything?"

Inuyasha decides to be merciful. "You have any essential oils? Peppermint, basil, lavender?"

Tsukuyomaru tilts his head. "I dunno. I don't think my ole man keeps stuff like that around here. Why?"

"Oils help reduce swelling, fixes headaches, all that."

"Oh. Cool." Tsukuyomaru suddenly perks up. "We can look in our kitchen. He's always buying spices and stuff. You might find something in there."

A kitchen. That sounds much better. "Yeah. Guide the way." Inuyasha tries to stand and wobbles.

"Careful, sir." Tsukuyomaru grabs him by the bicep and steadies him. He chuckles. "Baby steps, Mr. Saotome."

"Tsk, what are you, a therapist?"

"It's on my career's list in case football doesn't work out."

"Good choice." Inuyasha closes his eyes, takes several deep breathes and straightens. "I think I'm good." He smirks and adds, "Baby steps, right?"

"Says the therapist," Tsukuyomaru laughs as he leads the way down the hall and around the counter isle where the kitchen lies.

It doesn't look like a total disaster. Inuyasha twists his mouth to the side as he inspects the kitchen's model design. It has all the essential equipment: electric stove, overhead fan, sink, dishwasher, refrigerator and four stools to a slightly stained island.

Inuyasha's nose wrinkles disdainfully as he spots more and more discerptions. Some dirty plates in the sink, the sealing along the refrigerator door needs to be replaced and Jesus, are those juice spots on the floor. He wonders. . .

Inuyasha walks in and pulls open the stove's oven portion, bends over to look it over and blanches. He steps back and shakes his head. "Blah, kid, when's the last time ya'll cleaned this thing?"

Tsukuyomaru hops on one of the stools and folds his arms over the counter. "You mean we're supposed to?"

"Oh God." Inuyasha shuts it and goes to inspect the refrigerator. Its state isn't as bad, but he's seen much better quality. The inner chef in him is weeping. "Ya know the cleanliness of your kitchen determines the quality taste of your food, yeah?"

"No sir, we rarely cook 'round here. Dad's works a lot and I usually just fix a sandwich or ramen noodles."

"You better not mean that sodium shit in a cup?"

Tsukuyomaru sheepishly ducks his head between his shoulders. "The very same."

"Good grief, you poor thing. I assume your father lives off a similar diet?"

Tsukuyomaru goes quiet.

Inuyasha looks up from where he was wiping a finger down the refrigerator door's shelf. "Well?" he prompts.

Tsukuyomaru shrugs. "Dad forgets to eat or will have an energy drink or energy bar to get going. He doesn't have time to fix a full course meal."

"I see." Inuyasha vaguely wonders if the jackass made the wager strictly to have him take up the bulk of that responsibility. If that is the case, he'll give the fool a proper cussing out later. "When's the last time you've eaten?"

"I had boiled eggs and toast this morning."

"That's it?'

Tsukuyomaru nods.

That's. . . that's just sad. Inuyasha decides a change in pace will have to be arranged. It's a wonder the kid's as muscular as he is with the improper eating habits he has. Inuyasha explores the refrigerator again and pulls out a few items to whip something quick together: taco wraps, cold chicken cutlets, cubed watermelon, cucumbers, a couple of apples, spinach leaves, shredded cheese and Greek yogurt.

This'll do for a decent lunch. Inuyasha taps his chin in thought, conjuring different kinds of preps from the limited supply before him. "Since you had a hot meal, we'll go cold this time. You good with that?"

Tsukuyomaru perks up tall, his smile as big as a melon slice. "I'll eat whatever you put in front of me. Call me the demon garbage disposal!"

Inuyasha smirks and nods. "Alright, cold lunch it is." He pulls the sleeves back on his. . . Inuyasha's nose twitches. He looks at his sleeve and the rest of his body and can't believe he didn't smell himself sooner. He looks over at Tsukuyomaru and asks, "Mind if I use your shower?"

* * *

The tension between the boy was massively thick to the say the least. When they arrived at his home, Sesshomaru felt the pulsating sparks from their auras the moment they walked through. The smallest word or wrong gesture could easily trigger a fight. He'd hate to kill Inuyasha's son for breaking his favorite lamp. His own boy knows the consequences of roughhousing indoors.

So, after getting Inuyasha settled in, Sesshomaru thought it best to separate the two by taking Hiten with him to find items for the meal they'll be eating. Tsukuyomaru barely knows his way around the kitchen. It stands to reason that Inuyasha would likely pass some of his skills down to his kid.

That's how they ended up in the supermarket, silently scouring the shelves in each aisle. Sesshomaru thought himself a true master of brooding. He's got nothing on this kid. He may as well pass the title to him. But it's understandable that he isn't comfortable being around him. Most half-breed children would prefer demons around their age or their parents opposed to being in the present of someone who likely thinks you're inferior. And he whooped his father's ass too, so there's that.

But he can tell there's more to Hiten's silence then those things. God, Sesshomaru hates making small conversation. He's so bad at it.

He angles his head to try speaking and discreetly straightens when he finds Hiten looking directly at him.

Sesshomaru lifts an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Hiten lifts his own. "You're not real friendly, are you?"

"I never saw a point in trying."

"You should consider it. Having a friend or two won't kill you. You're about as much of a conversationalist as my ole man and that's sayin' something."

It's a start. "I take it Inu-Ya-Sha hates having company too?"

"Why do you say his name like that?"

"He has a demon name. I can't resist."

Hiten stills, then a small smile creeps on his face. "You're an awful tease." He walks ahead to continue finger reading over the ingredients found in a can of beans and shakes his head. "My dad will flip if he finds out we're buying processed foods."

"Why's that?" Sesshomaru asks before realizing.

Hiten looks at him curiously. "Well, he's insanely health-conscious. Nothing goes in his body unless me or him choose it. And he figures if he can't see the food in its container, there's no chance in making a purchase."

Sesshomaru shifts the grocery basket to his other arm to take the can of beans out of Hiten's hand and reads through the ingredients on the label. He glances down at Hiten. "How do you feel about it?"

Hiten shrugs. "I agree with him for the most part. He's part of the reason behind why I wanna learn more about molecular gastronomy."

"You're his opposite then. I assume Saotome prefers to read the ingredients and strategically go with what likely compliments them all."

"It isn't just that. Dad's able to change the taste of an entire dish just from careful measurements, punctual time of production, freshness, and spice selection, just to name a few. He's a stickler for impeccability. I seen him shut down a whole shift just for serving fish that'd lost its firmness."

Sesshomaru's mouth twists to the side. "That's a bit, what ya'll sayin' now? Extra as hell."

Hiten chuckles heartily. "You sound weird stayin' hip. Good try though." He takes the can from Sesshomaru and places it back on the shelf. "We'll have better luck in the produce section."

"You're not much for traditional cooking," Sesshomaru continues when they'd found all the things they needed. Color him intrigued. He never knew there was so much to know from cooking. "You want to cook, but not like your father."

"Nah, I like to know how each ingredient is broken down to the most basic molecular and what capabilities it holds that makes it enhance the flavor on a dish. Dad's able to eyeball it most of the time, but I want a broader perspective. Once I have it mastered, I'll challenge him to see where I stand. I doubt I'll win though."

"So, you're a lab rat and he's a kitchen nut."

Hiten laughs again. "Yeah, you can say that."

They finish bagging their belongings and head to the parking lot to store the food in the trunk. Hiten's energy isn't as constricted as before. He's loosened up and more talkative. Most of the chatter is from his end during their trip back. Sesshomaru replies in the spots he needs to hold his weight in the talk. Funnily, he can't understand why he's able to speak to teenagers better than adults. His son and now Hiten.

When they arrive, Hiten hops out first to grab what he can and heads into the house. Sesshomaru gets what's left and shuts the door behind him. What he'd expected to find is his son mowing the lawn and since that wasn't the first thing he saw, assumed Tsukuyomaru was doing some other chore.

Instead, he finds him halfway into their stove, carrying on a talk with Inuyasha like they're best friends. Meanwhile, Inuyasha's taken it upon himself to clean the kitchen. And it smells heavily of vanilla extract.

"Dad!" Hiten drops the groceries on the dining room table and rushes in to hug his father. "About time you woke up. You really like givin' me a heart attack huh?"

Inuyasha ruffles his head. "I'm fine, brat. No need to get worked up over it."

"Sheesh, your face is jacked!"

Inuyasha promptly pops Hiten on the back on the head. "Get outta here. You could've tried to act like you didn't see it."

"A knot that size is pretty hard to miss."

Inuyasha visibly freezes from head to toe before casting a diabolical glare over his shoulder. Sesshomaru meets it head on with a bored stare.

Sesshomaru blinks. "Is that my shirt?"

Inuyasha pinches the oversized blue and black plaid long sleeve and shrugs. "Yeah, I don't cook in dirty clothes. You got a problem with that?"

"Not if you're down with cookin' with one eye."

Inuyasha bristles. "You'd do well to keep all personal opinions to yourself. Unless you don't mind eating charred food?"

Tsukuyomaru crawls from inside the stove with a desperate expression and a brush in hand. "Please don't make 'im mad, Dad. He's gonna cook for us!"

Sesshomaru gestures towards his son. "Just what in the Hell are you doin'?"

"Cleaning out the stove." Tsukuyomaru proudly holds up the metal brush. "Mr. Saotome says it'll help improve our food's taste."

"Of course he did," Sesshomaru snorts. "That's task he should have committed himself to. It isn't like he has much of a choice anyway."

A plate crashes violently in the sink. Inuyasha whips around so fast his hair takes seconds to catch up. "Listen here you disrespectful hound." Inuyasha stomps directly up to the demon, jabbing a finger in his chest. "I may have agreed to this dumbass bet, but I'll be damned if I take bein' insulted and/or humiliated. You had your damn fun in the ring. Lay the Hell off me, got it?!"

Tsukuyomaru hisses sympathically before diving back into the stove with his brush. "I-I'll just be in here."

"Yeah, I'll get to puttin' away the groceries," Hiten uneasily chimes in and grabs some bags. He tries to squeeze his way around the standoff currently taking place between his father and Sesshomaru.

Sesshomaru none too gently slaps the hand away and leans forward until a half inch is left between him and Inuyasha. "If memory serves, you had ample opportunity to call it quits. But since you wanted to try goin' into some beast mode nonsense, you ended up being served your comeuppance. So bypass me with your complaints."

Sesshomaru reaches out to grab whatever's bag is in range without taking his eyes away and thrusts it in Inuyasha's chest, nearly making the human stumble back a step. "Here, make yourself useful and start your job."

Inuyasha stares blankly at the bag, from the feel of it, an onion and a slice of steak, in his arms for a moment, before he realizes what he'd just been ordered to do. He shoves it back into Sesshomaru's chest. "There's a magic word you use first."

Sesshomaru returns it just as roughly, dark eyes lit with anger. "I believe," he says, voice deadly cold, "that I told you to do something and since this is my house—you are expected to listen like a good cook should." The bags shoved back into Inuyasha's chest, barely padding a well-aimed punch from the hand giving it.

Inuyasha grunts from the solid hit, doubling over briefly and shooting Sesshomaru a foul look. The bag nearly falls from his hands. "And you should be kinder in asking your guests to do something for you. Learn some damn manners! Now," the bag is slammed into Sesshomaru's chest and Inuyasha steps up with it, nose to nose with the demon and says through clenched teeth, "try it again with less bark and bite."

Something crackles and snaps in the distance. Sesshomaru's eyes briefly morph from hazel gold to crimson—

"Dad, nononononono!" Tsukuyomaru quickly pushes his way in between the men and grabs the bag. "I'll take this, thank you. Hiten, please help."

Hiten takes Inuyasha's hand and leads him into the living room. The whole time Inuyasha keeps his eyes trained on the demon, hardly fazed by the coming threat. Meanwhile, Tsukuyomaru reminds his father that they live in a decently sized finite area and if he decides to transform, they don't have the funds to fix the damages.

The teenagers take around twenty minutes to calm their fathers down. Hiten volunteers to start prepping the food. Tsukuyomaru decides to help wherever he's able. Inuyasha eventually comes out of the living room, ignoring Sesshomaru where he sits at the dining room table, cutting ugly looks in his direction. Inuyasha discreetly flips him off. Sesshomaru rolls his eyes and mumbles a low, "Fuck you."

The rest of the time the dinner is cooked, there's no words exchanged. The silence is minutely penetrated with metallic clanks and clicks, loud whipping and boiling water. The whole time, Sesshomaru stays rooted to his chair, sulking.

Inuyasha is the first to break the silence and sighs aloud. "You have any cilantro?"

"Lower shelf, next to the microwave," Sesshomaru grunts.

"Gee, thanks." Inuyasha finds it. He grabs an onion and a cutting board and brings it to the table. He lays the stuff before Sesshomaru who looks at him like he's lost his mind. "Here, do you mind making yourself useful and chopping these? _Finely_ chopped, not all blocky and uneven."

The teens freeze where they are. Hiten's knife pauses midway through chopping potatoes and Tsukuyomaru doesn't budge from the soap suds leak from his arms.

Sesshomaru looks from the onion, to Inuyasha, back to the human, then rolls his eyes and grabs the knife and starts snapping it down on the vegetable.

Inuyasha smiles triumphantly and proudly says, "Thank you," before returning to his place in the kitchen.

Hiten and Tsukuyomaru nearly melt into the floor.

By the time the meal is complete, Inuyasha lays out the dishes for Tsukuyomaru and Sesshomaru.

"Where's yours?" asks Tsukuyomaru.

Hiten's cheeks color. "Dad says we're gonna eat at home."

"Oh." Tsukuyomaru dampens a bit. "Thanks for the food, Mr. Saotome."

"No problem, kid." Inuyasha shoots Sesshomaru a dirty look and sucks his teeth. "We'll arrange a way to have food sent here."

Sesshomaru rests his chin on the back of his knuckles and narrows his eyes. "That isn't what we agreed to."

"Your terms weren't quite clear," Inuyasha says. "You said I'd cook for you, not provide a show. I'll do things my way." With that said, he stalks out the household with Hiten in tote.

Sesshomaru stares after the pair until they disappear out the house and shut the door. He reaches up to massage the space between his eyes, unable to fathom how in the actual fuck he'll be able to deal with a firecracker like Inuyasha.

"Oh Jesus, God!"

Sesshomaru looks up, frowning.

Tsukuyomaru sinks all the way to the floor. "Dad this steak melts in your mouth like butter!"

Sesshomaru looks down at the plate without having paid much attention to the smell or presentation. He hadn't expected the steak he bought to be glazed over. He doesn't remember buying anything that could do that. There's smashed potatoes, steamed broccoli—where did he get that? —and fresh baked rolls. He sniffs it and the smell alone nearly curls his toes.

He cuts into it the steak and wraps his tongue and lips around it. Sesshomaru's fingers seize up, his foot taps and his eyes shut against his will. "Shit," he mumbles around the morsel. The meat practically breaks away like liquid and flavors explode all over.

All of this from his modest kitchen?

"Oh Dad, I'm so glad you made this bet. We're gonna eat like kings!"

Sesshomaru can't help smiling at that. "Yes. Yes, we will."


End file.
